The Hope
by Nel
Summary: Eight years have passed since the events of Vengeance, and the darkness has finally gathered its forces. Now the only thing that can save both worlds is a child whose life rests precariously between her parents and the man who is the embodiment of Evil.
1. Prologue

Prologue – The Tale Retold

_In the heart of a human is concealed the yin and the yang, the balance of light and dark. In each of us lies the potential for evil, and the potential for good. The side that eventually wins within us is decided by the choices we make; the life we live. When a child is born of two truly good hearts that purely yearn for one another, that child becomes a beacon for good in the world, and a powerful warrior against evil. However, if evil touches this child, it can also become a powerful villain. _

_7,000 years ago, it is said that such a child was born. This rare, beautiful gift became a sorcerer of pure evil. He wandered the earth, bestowing pain on the masses, giving in to his selfish ambitions. He caused the Great War that split the once peaceful land into four countries at war. He wandered the world, striking fear in the hearts of every man, woman, and child. Great armies fell at his feet. This man represented the yin._

_Finally, another child of true fate was born; a woman. She was a healer, a mage who cured the sick and gave food and assistance to the poor. She lived only for others. In her travels she met the evil man, who had caused so much pain, and vowed to stop him. For years she studied the art of holy magic until the day she met him again. A great battle ensued and the world was shaken to the core, however in the end, she was triumphant. The woman had sealed the sorcerer, a man who became known as the great dark Lord Tenkou, into a book of ancient magic. However, to be certain that the seal was never broken, she too was forced to remain in the book, keeping watch over the evil Lord and his minions._

_The world, after the reign of darkness that Tenkou wrought upon them, was ravaged and war torn. With the the last of her strength, the wise, holy woman broke the world of the past into a separate dimension, sealing it so that what remained could be allowed a fresh beginning. With this act, she slept for 5,000 years. The woman's name was Mistress Taiitsukun._

_Once in a millenia a child such as this is born. A child such as this lives in the city of Tokyo today. She is the Hope._

_

* * *

_

Pregnancy, for Miaka, had been an interesting experience. She had sworn that she was the only female to go through as much discomfort, and after a while, Nakago began to believe her. Certainly, if it warrented so much bloody complaining, it was quite an ordeal. She had experienced a number of confusing emotions after she discovered the truth of her condition. She had experienced joy, of course, because she had been given the impression that she might not be able to have children, but also immediate fear. She had said to him a number of times that she wasn't ready for this kind of committment and that patience wasn't her strong suit. Nakago pointedly told her that if she didn't like committment, and especially if patience wasn't her strong suit, she shouldn't have married him.

The miscarriage hit her hard. She became reclusive, thinking that it was her fault, that because of the accident all those years ago, her womb had been damaged and that she had caused the death of her child. Nakago was guiltily thinking the same thing. After all, the explosion that injured her had been intended for him. But he had comforted her and she had moved on and conceived again, and this time the child had been a beautiful, healthy baby girl. As she grew, Nakago noticed that there was something extraordinary about his daughter. Aside from the fact that she had melted the parts of his heart that Miaka had not quite managed to thaw (though he admitted even those were few and far between), there was something else about her.

The child was stunning and charismatic in a way he wouldn't have thought possible for any offspring of his. His progeny was bold and fearless, though she did have a particular weakness for sweets and hamburgers. Her hair was white-blonde, so that she had a long silver halo at all times and her eyes, Nakago thought with pride, were his. They were the exact shade of his at the lightest his ever were, except when angered, which caused them to turn deep and dark like the depths of the ocean. They were, however, wide and round like her mother's. Her features closely resembled Miaka, in fact. Her mouth was small and pouty and her nose was slightly upturned and tiny. Her limbs were long and willowy despite her petiteness. She was a beautiful child.

Nakago moved to the balcony of his high rise, high luxury apartment, staring out at the city in thought. Eyes were not the only thing father and daughter shared, he thought wryly. The day that she had said to him, pushing her bedroom door shut with her little hands, "Daddy, you should keep your nose from where it belongs or it might get broken," he had never been more annoyed, or more proud. She had his sharp wit, though she also had her mother's lack of physical coordination. She was intelligent and beautiful and perfect, but that was not the strange part. He thought with a smug smile, that any child that shared his genetics would have to be stunning and brilliant.

The strange part was her insight. Yui had come around one day while Miaka was out, looking for consolation. She had just discovered that she would be joining Nakago and Miaka in the land of parenthood, even though she was most certainly not married to Tetsuya, and Nakago had allowed her in to wait for Miaka. With the awkward silences that came between short formalities, the child had come to Yui, sat on her lap, and said that she was glad she would have a friend soon. The child was only two at the time. Yui realized that now she and Miaka had something else to share, and thanked Nakago gratefully, leaving much more cheerfully than she had come.

There had been other occasions in which the child had demonstrated her unusual abilities to empathize without intending to, or even, in some ways, to fortell. The day that Chui was critically injured in a car accident, she, when Miaka visited Tamahome's father, went to the injured teenager and told him that, he believed the words where, "If you think you aren't going to walk, you won't, but if you think that you are, you will."

Chui had begun physical therapy a month later and by the following year he was walking without crutches for Yui and Tetsuya's wedding.

Nakago was very much aware that his and Miaka's relationship was unique, and that it had created a unique person because of it. He couldn't help but wonder what role she would have to play in the storm that he had first felt brewing nine years ago.


	2. Chapter 1: A Precious Theft

Chapter One – A Precious Theft

Married life, for Miaka, was not what she had ever expected. For one, she had never expected to marry such a pretentious, infuriating, beautiful, sensual ass. She had expected to marry a nice boy and have a few kids, take care of them while her husband worked a typical job. What she hadn't expected was to marry a powerful lawyer, to become a public figure, to be the wife of a man running for public office, and to have one beautiful, brilliant blonde child.

"How are you today, Kaena?" Miaka asked as she picked her daughter up from school, taking her bag and helping her into her seat.

"Bye!" the girl waved to her friends and hopped in. "Hi, mommy, I'm good, how are you?"

"Cheerful as usual. Your papa is waiting for us the restaurant. We have to meet some important people."

"You better be good or papa will be upset," the girl chided, smiling happily.

Miaka sighed. It was her luck that her daughter would take so much after Nakago that she chided her own mother, instead of the other way around. "When we get there, you'll need to change out of your uniform. Papa bought you a new dress for tonight."

"Can I see it!" she hopped in her seat, excited.

Miaka took a hand off the steering wheel to grab the box in the back seat, setting it in the little girl's lap. "Papa thought you would like to have it for tonight, even though you haven't held up your end of the bargain yet. You need two more weeks of extra chores, don't forget."

"I won't!" she squealed happily, pulling a light blue dress out of the box and examining it closely. The dress was extremely flattering, elegantly beaded in the bodice, with a full and swooshy skirt. Nakago, doubtless, had good taste in gifts—she had always been thrilled with the beautiful things he purchased for her.

"Don't forget to tell your daddy thank you, too," she said.

Kaena nodded happily, her blue eyes twinkling. Miaka reached over and mussed her hair, smiling. Sometimes she couldn't believe this angel was hers.

"How was school? Did you get your math test back?" the young woman questioned.

The girl reached for her bag and pulled the test out proudly, showing her mother the perfect score.

"Are you sure you're my daughter?" the woman laughed.

"Mommy, don't be silly," she giggled.

"Oh, look, we're here," she said, pulling into the valet area. She was still not used to valet service—really, she was perfectly capable of parking her own car, but Nakago insisted. "Run on inside and find the bathroom to change. I'll be right along," she said, handing the keys to the valet and grabbing her purse.

Miaka went inside and checked her make-up as Kaena changed into her dress in the stall. She smoothed her hair, now shorter than it had been when Kaena was born, checked her teeth, and when her stunning little daughter emerged from the stall, she took the girl's clothes to the main desk for holding and escorted her little beauty to their table.

"Papa!" the girl exclaimed, breaking from her mother's grip and jumping into Nakago's lap. She kissed him on the cheek and hugged him happily. "I missed you! How was your trip?"

"It was fine, Kaena," he kissed her cheek briefly and helped her down.

"Sorry," Miaka mumbled sheepishly, taking her daughter's hand again and leading her to her seat.

"Gentlemen, this is my wife, Miaka and my daughter Kaena. Miaka, this is my publicist, Yamamoto Jinko, and my campaign coordinator, Suzuki Hokuto," Nakago introduced.

"Pleased to meet you," she bowed demurely.

"Pleased to meet you, as well," they bowed, and took their seats.

"You're Japanese, Gi-san," the man named Hokuto said in surprise, looking at Miaka.

"Yes," she agreed, smiling.

"I have to wonder how you ended up with this foreign fool," he laughed casually, lightening the mood.

"We crossed paths in another country, Suzuki-san," she smiled.

"Do you travel much, Gi-san?" Jinko questioned.

"When I was younger," she responded. "I had a number of adventures."

"Your daughter is quite lovely," Yamamoto smiled kindly at the girl.

As if on queue, Kaena bowed her head with a small blush flushing her cheeks.

"I, for one, am convinced she is not related," Miaka said jokingly, pulling her daughter's face next to her own. "Look at these blue eyes!"

"She looks just like you in the face, though," Nakago said boredly. "And she is nearly as clumsy."

The group had a good laugh and then got down to business.

"Your campaign is going very well. Popularity polls say that you are in the lead at the moment. It is looking probable that you will be elected to the House of Counsillors," Suzuki stated.

"Yes, our publicity involving your desires to become involved in this country have gone well. The people are intrigued by you because you are a foreigner raised in Japan. Plus you are extremely charismatic, when you want to be, Ayuru-san," Yamamoto grinned.

"This is good news. What is our next step?" he questioned.

"Your accomplishments in the judiciary system have already been highlighted, and we would like to appear personal to the people. My thought was an ad involving your lovely family," he continued.

The men chatted among themselves for a few moments while Miaka was elected to do the ordering because of her particular talents.

"Mommy, I need to use the restroom," the girl whispered to her mother just as she began to order.

"Go ahead," she nodded and continued ordering.

The little girl got up from her seat, bowed politely, and disappeared into the lobby of the restaurant. Miaka placed her order and sat back to listen. It sounded as if Nakago was making good headway in his campaign. Elections were in a few weeks and Miaka had overheard businessmen discussing him more than once, usually positively. He was respected for his power in the judiciary system—he had become a district judge three years ago, and had amassed a great deal of respect due to that prestigious position. He was also an attractive, and as Yamamoto-san had said, extremely charismatic character, when he wanted to be. She probably should have forseen this kind of prestige when she married Nakago, or even before. She had known he was a talented man, and he really couldn't stay out of government affairs. The conversation went on for a while longer and the food came along.

Kaena had not returned in twenty minutes time, and Miaka was beginning to worry that her daughter was sick. "Excuse me," she stood up and went to the bathroom.

Pushing the door open, she called her daughter's name and got no response. She went to the desk. "Have you seen a little girl walk past here? She's seven years old, with blonde hair and wearing a blue dress."

"The child you speak of entered the bathroom nearly half an hour ago. I did not see her exit."

Miaka's blood chilled. "Did you see anybody strange enter the bathroom?"

"Certainly not, ma'am. We keep strict tabs on those who enter this establishment."

"Excuse me," the woman said, pacing away hurridly. She returned to the table.

"Where is Kaena? Is she ill?" Nakago asked, his brows lowering in concern. "We have conducted our business for this evening, so we may leave if we need to."

There were tears in Miaka's eyes now. A darkness had flooded her senses and she felt weak. Her hands shook as she leaned over to whisper.

"She's gone," she gasped out, trying not to cry. "She's been taken."

They locked down the restaurant in search of the girl. They called the police. She was no where to be seen.

Nakago held his small wife tightly. "Do you have a security camera in the wash room that we can view?"

The staff, having realized whose daughter had gone missing, was quick to oblige. They pulled the tape and watched it. They saw the girl enter and disappear into the stall. A few minutes later, a suspicious person with a black cloak entered the room and waited by the sink. When Kaena emerged, she was met by the person. A brief struggle ensued.

Miaka sobbed into her husband's chest as she watched her daughter fight off a man twice her size. He hit her head and lifted her listless body, hiding her within the cloak. Nakago's jaw clenched. His beautiful, wonderful child. Had she been kidnapped for ransom?

The odd part came next. Though the man's back was turned to the camera, his reflection was not visible in the mirror that he faced. All they saw was a pair of glowing red eyes. His daughter wasn't carried away, she, and the man in the black cloak, had simply disappeared.


	3. Chapter 2: A Woman's Touch

Chapter Two – A Woman's Touch

The media caught wind of the alleged kidnapping in no time at all. She had been missing for seventy-two hours and there were no leads. The kidnapper had not entered the restaurant by any known means and nobody had seen them leave. The image on the tape left the police believing that it had been doctored, but Nakago and Miaka knew better.

That same evening, Miaka had appeared on national television to plead with the people of the area to be on the look out for their daughter, and to send a message to the kidnapper. She knew, of course, that this was not an ordinary kidnapping. She had seen the video and knew that after the events on the cruise all those years ago, this was what had been promised. It was finally coming to a head. However, Nakago's advisors had suggested they appear publicly to dispel any notions that this was publicity.

Miaka stepped out of the studio. She was greeted with sympathy and assurances that everything would be all right. She didn't believe them, and she was ready to crack under the stress. She followed her escort down to the limousine and sat in the back seat, her green eyes unfocused. She needed Nakago now, more than she had ever needed his support, his aloof logic and assurances that it would be all right. And now more than ever before he had closed into himself. After the initial reports and investigations, he had disappeared to his private study and locked the door. That was two days ago.

She was escorted back up to their apartment suite and let herself in. She went to the kitchen to make something to eat but found herself uncharacteristically without appetite. She went to the bathroom and splashed her face. Her makeup ran as she rubbed her eyes. Her face looked gaunt and pale and downright unhealthy. She realized she hadn't eaten since Kaena had disappeared. She sat down hard on the toilet seat as images of things that might be done to her beautiful daughter entered her mind. Kaena was just a child, but she was a beautiful, sensual child with ageless eyes and an entrancing charisma. Miaka knew that if she had been taken into the worlds of the book, which she suspected, there were many slave traders and brothels that would love a delicate, unusual child like her. She began to sob and found she couldn't stop.

She was startled by a sharp knock on her apartment door. She wiped her eyes and looked in the mirror with a sigh. Her face was now not only gaunt and pale, but her eyes red rimmed and inflamed. Oh well, people would expect that. She went to the door, trying to smile and failing. She had lost her daughter and, it seemed, she had lost her husband as well. She had nothing left. Keisuke had taken his family out of the country two weeks before and wasn't expected for another two weeks, and Yui, despite her and Tetsuya's best efforts, had been unable to offer any comfort or theories. They had also not been able to find the book that Nakago and Miaka had bid them to keep so that Kaena would not be pulled into it. She allowed her default media expression to take over and opened the door.

"Miaka!" she was immediately suffocated by four strong pairs of arms, two of them almost painfully powerful. She struggled out of the grips, not knowing who was smothering her with affection and muscles.

"Nuriko! Hotohori!" she exclaimed, a true smile cracking her mask for the first time in days. "What are you doing here!"

"We saw on the news. We came as soon as we heard. What's going on? Do they have any leads?" Nuriko's rose brown eyes were worried. He and Hotohori had been present at the child's dedication and loved the charming little child, despite her resemblance to the Seishi who had been directly and indirectly responsible for their deaths.

Miaka stepped back to let them in and closed the door behind them. "No leads, no witnesses aside from that tape, which the police have dismissed in evidence as being damaged or tampered with because of how they disappeared."

"Do you think it has something to do with the book?" Hotohori asked gravely, following the woman gracefully to the couch. "It seems if somebody wanted to ransom her, they would have given demands by this point."

Miaka nodded.

"Have you felt it lately?" Nuriko asked.

Miaka looked puzzled and shook her head. "I've been a little distracted by Nakago's campaign lately, though. What's going on?"

Hotohori and Nuriko glanced at each other and Miaka noticed their hands fold together. Hotohori spoke, his dignified politician's voice sounding highly concerned and unsure. "We've felt time shifting. We realize that our memories of the book are foggier than yours. It was a lifetime for us, only a few years for you, but time as we remember it moves differently now than it did at the time you came out of the book. It changes. It seems like certain times move quickly, and others slowly, sometime it even seems to stop."

"Not only that," Nuriko said, shifting his shoulders uncomfortably. "The memories have gotten stronger. At times it seems like it wasn't another lifetime. When the memories first surfaced it was always in dreams, and then when I realized it wasn't a dream it became kind of liquid, like looking into a pond. Now, though, the memories are like looking into a mirror. They're solid. I remember everything, even things from my childhood in the book. Hotohori's have also solidified, and I've spoken to Tomo and he said the same thing. I'm not sure what it means, but..."

"We think it might be related," Hotohori finished.

"I wonder why Nakago didn't say anything before. He must have noticed," the woman mused, looking at her hands thoughtfully.

"I think his memories might have been different from ours. For one, he's been back in the book since being reborn. Also, because of the life he lived there, I believe his memories were stronger to begin with, because of the things he did, Taiitsukun likely wanted him to remember them clearly so that he could have penance. But you'd have to ask him, this is just something Chichiri mentioned to me once. He said those reincarnated are punished or rewarded based on their lives of before. Have you two thought of anything?"

"I..." she got up. "Would you like something to drink?" She began to walk toward the kitchen and then swooned and almost fell.

"Miaka!" they both cried. Nuriko caught her and lifted her gently, laying her down on the couch. "Miaka, have you eaten since she disappeared?"

"I don't remember," she said pathetically.

The two men looked at each other and Hotohori stood immediately. "I'm going to make you something. Being weak like this will solve nothing."

"I'm not really hungry," she protested. The idea of having Hotohori cook for her was a little troubling, not only because he was her emperor, but because he was also a powerful politician. It hadn't really occurred to her that he was in a position to advance Nakago's campaign until that moment, and then she laughed. She doubted Hotohori would be keen on recommending the man who he remembered clearly as a tyrant and murderer for public office. She felt immediately guilty for these thoughts. Their daughter was gone, this was not the time to think of his campaign.

"Why hasn't Nakago made you eat anything?" Hotohori asked sourly, flicking his long ponytail over his shoulder. "He should be watching for you. I don't like him, but I know he has sense."

"I haven't seen him," she admitted softly.

Nuriko's eyes widened. "You haven't seen him at all?" he was stunned. "Where did he go?"

"He's here," she said, nodding to the locked study.

"He's hiding in his study while you're appearing on tv and talking to the police by yourself? He's sitting in there doing nothing!" Hotohori sounded outraged.

"You don't understand..." Miaka pushed herself up, freeing herself from Nuriko's concerned grasp. "Nakago never loved anybody before me. Not really. He didn't know what the word meant, and if he had he'd forgotten it and loathed it because it hurt him. He loves me, but his daughter, our daughter, is... she's everything to him. He loves us, especially her, more than his life. He would die for either of us at a moment's notice. I know you don't believe that..."

"I find it hard to believe," the former emperor admitted. "But I understand how I would feel if something happened to my love."

Nuriko bowed his head for a moment and then looked up. "But for him to allow you to suffer alone."

"I need him, but he needs..." she realized everything. "He needs me more than I need him, but he doesn't want to rely on me because if I disappear too, he'll be alone again. He's afraid to let me near him because it won't hurt as much, just like he stopped loving in Kutou because he lost everything he'd ever loved. But he needs me to go to him and convince him it will be okay."

Hotohori shook his head slightly, throwing some more ingredients together. The way Miaka spoke of him, it made the man seem vulnerable, almost childish. In some ways he was. In some ways he used his aloofness as a shield to keep him from getting hurt, but Miaka wormed her way in, and then their daughter came and she not only got behind that shield but annihilated it, and now he was without defense.

"Sounds like you need to go talk to him. But first," he said, dropping the food onto a plate and bringing it over. "You need to eat something. And I'm sure he does, too, so you should bring him the rest of this." He went back to the kitchen and dumped the remainder on a plate.

"We'll leave once you eat this," Nuriko smiled serenely and then came to some realization. "Miaka, do you still have the book?"

"We gave it to Yui and Tetsuya to hold because we didn't want her to get drawn into it," she said sadly. "And they can't find it. It's disappeared."

"No, it hasn't," Nuriko shook his head. "I think I know where it is. When Yui first found out she was pregnant, she came over to my restaurant. She had a large book and told me to hold it for her. She must have forgotten because it was such a hard time."

"You have it!" she exclaimed. "I think the answer may be in it. Can you bring it to me?"

"I can do you one better," he pulled a large, red book out of his messenger bag. "I found it today when I was cleaning. I didn't realize what it was, but I remembered it was hers. I thought I would bring it to her, but then we heard you on the radio on our way there. I put two and two together and figured out what it was."

Miaka hugged Nuriko fiercely. "Thank you so much!" she cried against him. "Thank you both!" she grabbed Hotohori and pulled both men to her, crying wretchedly. They rubbed her back and pushed her away gently when she stopped weeping.

"Feeling better?" Hotohori asked, smiling at her in his kind, brotherly way.

She nodded and began to eat the food he'd made. "This is delicious," she said.

"It's his recipe," the former emperor leveled a thumb toward his lover. "It's a hit at the restaurant."

"I should have stopped by more," she said mournfully, feeling guilty.

"We've all been busy, Miaka-aka-chan," he touched her face, smiling. "But we're bound by fate. There's no escaping!" he gave a light, musical laugh. Miaka couldn't help the smile that appeared. She finished the food and the men stood.

"We'll be in touch. We're going to make a visit to a shrine we know to pray, and then we're going to find out what's going on come hell or high water," the shorter man promised as they headed for the door. "Now go talk to your man. Sounds like he's helpless without you."

Miaka nodded and closed the door behind them.

Miaka found the spare key to Nakago's study and entered silently, closing the door behind her. The room was dark except for one dim lamp on the desk. She could see him sitting in his chair, his body sprawled uncharacteristically. He was still wearing his suit pants, but his shirt and jacket had been discarded long before, it seemed. His shoes and socks were thrown on top of the expensive jacket. Miaka glanced at it uncaring and continued toward him. She could see that he was awake, but he hadn't moved. His feet were resting on the floor, his arms on the rests of the chair.

"Why are you hiding in here?" she asked coolly, knowing the answer. "I've been talking to the media, the police, trying to find the ShiJinTenshiSho... and not a word from you."

"Now isn't the time," he snapped. "Leave me alone."

"I won't," she came to stand before him. "You will not leave me to deal with this alone."

"I said go away!" he shouted. She flinched. Nakago rarely raised his voice, and never at her, not unless it was a cry of warning. She stood her ground. He sat up suddenly, his beautiful muscles tensing like a pouncing tiger. She knew he wouldn't, but it almost looked like he would strike her.

"I won't!" she shrieked at him, tears falling from her eyes. "I won't let you leave me alone and I won't leave you alone either! I need you, you bastard! And you need me!"

He sat down hard in his chair, stunned by her for a moment. She stood there, tears trailing down her beautiful face. She was exhausted, her body looking thin and bony, her face pale and hollow.

"This is my fault," he said. "I knew this would happen."

"This isn't your fault, I shouldn't have let her go alone," she wept, not stepping toward him for comfort.

"I've sensed the changes they spoke of. I'd known since the beginning that a darkness was forming, and that it would fight us to the death because you stand against evil. And yet I allowed myself to bring a child into this world. I allowed myself to stand with you. I brought this on myself, and I brought it on you."

"Don't you dare suggest," he voice was hard. "That we would be better off without her. Don't you dare suggest that you would be better off without me."

"You would be better off without me," he said softly. She was stunned by his candid statement. He was so defenseless.

"I would not," she said softly. "Nakago, I'd known there was trouble too. I knew that our lives wouldn't be easy. I knew since before the book, since before Tamahome, since before Yui, I knew that my life would be like this. I knew it but I never gave up because I knew I could face it. Things like these don't happen to people who can't handle them. We can handle this, and you know it, so don't act like you don't. Why are you backing down from something hard now? You've never said you couldn't do anything, for as long as I've known you in both lifetimes! This isn't payment for the things you've done or not done, this is just how things are!"

"I can't lose her," his voice broke. Remarkably, he didn't pull her to him to hide his face. He sat before her and cried. She knew what his heart was fearing. She knew he might put all of his love into this beautiful child and then have her taken away. He knew that if that were to happen his heart would harden and he wouldn't be able to stop it. That he would never let himself love that much again. Miaka pulled his head against her chest and cradled him. Her fingers tangled in his blonde locks, now greasy and unkempt from days of isolation, fear, and worry.

"We won't lose her. We're going to find her. Fearing what might happen is useless if we do nothing to stop it."

"She's in Kutou," his voice was muffled against her breasts. "Tenkou wants her."

"Why?" she asked softly, pulling away.

He lifted her and set her in his lap, wrapping his arms around her tightly, holding her like she, too, would disappear.

"Because she is the Hope," he said softly. Miaka spoke no more. She didn't know what he meant by this, but he had two lifetimes of knowledge stored within his memory. He knew things about the world of the book, about the deities, about the history, that she did not. She wanted to shake him and make him tell everything he knew, but she knew that tonight was for comfort. Tomorrow the story would begin again.


	4. Chapter 3: The Best Laid Plans

Chapter Three - The Best Laid Plans

Miaka and Nakago rushed around the next day. Though they both knew that the solution was hidden in the book, they had things to tend to before disappearing. They knew they were going to end up in the book, so the two decided to gather up supplies. Nakago chose a selection of weapons and useful items such as lighters and blankets that could be easily folded. Miaka took care of the food, bringing dried fruit and beef jerky for the road, as well as her own pack of important items, namely deodorant and a first aid kit.

"I hate that every time I'm in the book I have to smell like a barn, and every time one of us gets hurt we have to rely on the archaic medicine there. My brother is a doctor, I'm not going to die of gangrene because I didn't bring something to clean wounds that I'm sure I'll get."

The lovers gathered up their items in two packs and dressed in comfortable, durable clothes, Nakago in khaki pants and a tank top, Miaka in jeans and a t-shirt.

"You look like Rambo," Miaka laughed as the former Seishi sheathed his sword, pulling on a light jacket over his sleeveless top.

"You look like you're going to the park," he retorted dryly. "At least get something to pull your hair from your face."

"You're one to talk. Your hair is almost as long as mine," she elbowed him, tying her shoes. It felt good to be a little light again. They knew their mission was serious—life and death—but they also had to stay in high spirits.

"I thought you liked my hair long? I could cut it," he suggested.

"I didn't say I didn't like it," she replied, standing and shouldering her pack.

"Personally, I like long hair," Nuriko chimed from the couch, smiling at Hotohori.

"Nobody asked you," Nakago muttered, not liking this useless discussion about appearances much when their daughter was trapped somewhere within the book. "Why are you here, anyway?"

"If you're going in the book, it's going to be good to have somebody here reading along in case something happens like last time. If demon beasts are going to be released into the streets of Tokyo, somebody should be able to gather the Seishi for battle."

"That explains one of you, not both," he replied, crossing his arms and coming toward them.

"I thought that if your journey becomes too tedious and boring that we could make love on your couch," Hotohori said nonchalantly.

Miaka laughed loudly, bracing herself against Nakago's arm. That was completely not something Hotohori would say. She knew he had said it just to piss Nakago off, and that brought her joy.

"If I find any stains on my leather, I will harm you," he said coolly.

"You have leather?" Nuriko asked, eyes twinkling.

Nakago understood that the two of them were trying to get his goat, one because they didn't like him, and two to make Miaka laugh. The second reason was reason enough for him to play along.

"There's a box under the bed," he smirked.

"Nakago!" Miaka shrieked, her face turning brilliant red. Hotohori coughed. Nakago and Nuriko laughed. Truth be told, Nakago didn't have a problem with either of them, and admittedly liked Nuriko. The strange little man was entertaining and never overtly rude. Hotohori had a little more trouble being nice to him, but he imagined that was because Nuriko hadn't been killed directly by him, while Hotohori had.

"Enough banter for now. Set the book on the table," he said.

Hotohori laid the object down. It blew in an imaginary wind to the first blank page.

"That's queer," the blonde said. "Present company excluded."

"Thanks," Nuriko said, rolling his eyes, but not really offended.

"What do we do?" Miaka asked, looking at the book curiously, holding her husband's hand.

Nakago shrugged and touched the book. Nothing happened. He picked the book up and tried moving his chi over it so it would sense him. No luck.

"That's weird," Miaka took the book from him and looked into it. "Last time we didn't even have to touch it to get sucked inside. Maybe we have to start reading."

"Maybe it's not ready to be activated," Nuriko suggested. "May I see it?"

Miaka handed the book to Nuriko. Hotohori and the shorter man leaned over it, reading it. Characters began to appear on the pages. "You better take it, it's recording what we're doing," he advised.

As the two men, still both touching the book, handed it to Miaka, the the book flashed a violent purple and all four of them disappeared as the light died away. The book fell with a thud to the table, open to a blank page in the middle of the book. Characters slowly began to appear.

"_And the servants of Suzaku and the servant of Seiryuu entered the world of the book once again."_

Hotohori and Nuriko appeared side by side. "This is Kutou," Hotohori said, shocked. He looked around, trying to figure exactly where they were.

"It seems we're in the capital," Nuriko pointed to the foggy horizon at the large structure there. "That must be the palace."

"Where is Miaka?" his eyes scanned the area for the tall blonde, knowing they would be together since they were holding hands. He didn't see anybody who stood out particularly.

"Heika!" somebody shouted. Hotohori groaned. He should have seen this coming. "It's the emperor! He's in the city! He's come to bless us!"

The two heard murmurs and speculation about their peculiar dress and a crowd gathered around them, begging for him to touch their clothes.

"Do they realize it's me, or do they think it's another of my line?" he questioned thoughtfully. "I'm going to guess that my son and I would be about the same age according to what Miaka told me about him."

"Boushin-sama," he heard somebody cry.

"That answers that question," Nuriko replied.

Hotohori put on his most dignified stance and spoke. "My people! We have come today to bless you!" The crowd cheered. "May Suzaku smile upon your crops and homes through this seasons!" Again the crowd cheered.

Nuriko stepped forward. "I am the emperor's body guard, please step back to allow his safe passage. The emperor must tend to duties at his palace now. Make way for the emperor!" he shouted and then added quietly. "This must be how your bodyguards feel when you're touring the country to speak."

Hotohori laughed softly and touched some people as he passed. He chuckled when he realized what he was wearing—extremely tight blue jeans, a fitted dark red graphic tee and a tailored jacket. He looked extremely out of place. Of course, that was nothing compared to Nuriko's tight leather pants and mesh shirt.

"By the way, nice outfit," he said quietly.

"I was in an 80s mood, okay?" he defended. Hotohori laughed softly as they made their way back to the palace. "You know we're going to be arrested as soon as we get to the palace. They're going to think you're an impersonator."

"Of course," he replied. "But once Houki sees me, we'll be released..." a thought occurred to him suddenly and he cursed. "Houki! She's going to expect..."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," the smaller Seishi assured, pushing some more people out of his way. Nuriko took the former emperor's hand and the two ran toward the palace gates to escape the closely following crowd.

They made it to the palace gates and met the guards there. "Heika?" the man asked uncertainly.

Hotohori was unsure of how to explain the situation. "May I see the empress?"

The man examined Hotohori closely. "You are not the emperor," he concluded, looking closely at his eyes. Hotohori's eyes were the color of warm honey. The emperor's eyes were similar but darker, like deep sap, flecked with gold.

"I am not Boushin, I am Saihitei," he said softly. "I request entrance to my palace."

"Saihitei? Saihitei died nearly thirty years ago! You lie, impostor!"

"And here we go," Nuriko said calmly. "Do you want me to knock his block? I'll do it. I can just rip the gates off and we can go in."

"It would be better not to get all of security to chase us around the palace. It has been a long time since we have been here, and doubtless we would just end up lost. Houki will want to see us as soon as she hears I'm an alleged impostor."

"Arrest us, then," Nuriko held his hands out obediently. The man whacked his head, then Hotohori's. Seconds before he blacked out, Hotohori pledged to change the way in which prisoners were dealt.

Nakago woke up with a serious lump on his head. He recalled the book coming alight with a strange chi and then they were dragged inside. Had Hotohori and Nuriko also been drawn? He heard Miaka stirring to his side and willfully pushed himself up to be there when she awoke. She groaned in pain. "Where are the others?" she queried, looking disoriented. "Weren't we in the living room?"

"We're in the book," he replied, helping her up. She wavered for a moment before catching her balance. "Though I don't recognize the area."

"Well, let's see what we can find," Miaka recommended. "At least we have the things we need for the trip this time."

The two of them began to walk toward the sun. They figured that would be a place to start, at least. They were amidst a thick jungle the likes of which Nakago had never witnessed in his time. They could hear the roar of a large waterfall in the distance and tropical animals chittered and squawked constantly.

Miaka moved in closer to her husband. She had an ominous feeling in the pit of her stomach. Suddenly, there was a shriek from a few meters to their right. Miaka took off running without a word.

"You idiot, don't you think?" Nakago caught up to her. "Don't take off running in the direction of a scream without any idea of what's going on. You could be running into a trap!"

"I don't care, that was a child's scream. I won't let a child be injured!" she tried to push down the raw emotion in her voice, but found that she couldn't. Same old Miaka, she thought with a little wry laugh. She came to a slight clearing with Nakago a half step behind her and stopped. There was a boy of about thirteen climbing up a tree to get away from a ferocious looking beast. It was almost like a cross between a bear and a cougar, with deadly razor teeth and claws. The creature swung wildly at the tree causing it to bow, creating huge gashes in the bark.

"What do we do?" Miaka asked, staring wide eyed. "What IS it!"

"I'll distract it, you get the boy. Run until you're out of sight. I'll find you," he said, drawing his sword gallantly. Blue fire exploded around him.

Miaka erected a shield of her own chi around her body and waited until the beast's attention was diverted before running over to the tree. She waved her arms to get the boy's attention and then motioned him to come down. The boy's brown eyes shifted from the creature to Nakago, who was luring the thing away and had already managed to slice it with his chi-infused sword several times.

"Come down, quickly," Miaka said. "I'll protect you."

The boy took one last glance at the creature and then swiftly descended the tree's branches, hitting the ground with a thud. Miaka grabbed his hand and took off running. She knew Nakago was waiting for her to leave to kill the thing so she wouldn't have to see it die, and she appreciated that.

As soon as the boy and his wife were out of sight, Nakago jumped on the bear/cougar thing and stabbed it through the eye. It roared and shrieked, but dropped to the ground shortly after, twitching and bleeding. The former Seishi felt around for Miaka's chi and followed her out into another clearing not too far away. She was making the boy sit down just as he walked toward them, pulling the first aid kit out. He flicked the blood from his sword automatically and sheathed it.

"Is he dead?" the boy asked, looking at the tall man with awe.

Nakago nodded, kneeling down by him and checking his injuries. He had a few shallow scratches, but was otherwise whole.

"Are you all right, Nakago?" Miaka asked him, running peroxide over his wounds and covering them with the practiced ease of one who had been bandaging a clumsy child for many years.

"Fine," he confirmed. "What were you doing out here?" he looked to the boy.

"The Sostan, he... he was the guardian of this land. He protected us from the others, but lately he's been acting strange, and then he attacked me. Something was driving him to insanity," the boy whispered, eyes wide. "Sometime has changed in the world. Something is wrong."

"When did you first notice the change?" the blonde man asked.

"It started to get serious three days ago, but things have been coming undone for a while now," he explained. "Crops growing to full height overnight and then dying, animals giving birth to the wrong offspring, things like that. It's been like that for probably two years or more."

"Do you think this has anything to do with what happened when we were drawn here last time?" Miaka asked her husband. "And with the cruise?"

Nakago nodded. He didn't want to say it, but this had everything to do with those events. It was obvious that Miboshi's scheme had been part of a larger plan, and the demon admitted to wanting to resurrect Tenkou, but he wasn't sure how that was possible. According to the legends, Tenkou's body was sealed in this world leaving his soul to wander aimlessly in the other world, unable to be in the world or touch it. He didn't understand how his body could be reunited with his soul without destroying the world of the book. But maybe, he thought, that is exactly what is happening. "Where are we, boy?"

"You're in Konan, in the southern jungles," he said.

"Where do you live?" the woman inquired.

"In the village just down the road. I came today to speak to the Sostan to ask his blessing for our crops, which are dying all over Konan, especially in our village. We need to food to survive the winter."

"Can you take us to your village tonight?" Nakago asked. "Can we speak to your elders?"

The boy nodded and stood up. "I will take you there now, the noon meal should be finished."

"What's your name?" the Seishi asked.

"Jule," he replied.

"I'm Miaka. Nice to meet you. This is my husband Nakago."

"Nakago?" a puzzled expression overcame his face. "Wasn't the previous leader of the Kutou army a man by that name? A Hin tribesman?" The boy examined Nakago's features inquisitively. "But he died in battle with Konan."

The man didn't confirm or deny that he was who the boy spoke of, only nodded to his questioning glance. Jule looked more puzzled by this, but shrugged his narrow, brown shoulders and led the two weary travelers to his village.

Nuriko, being physically stronger than the former emperor, was the first to awake. He slumped against the bars of the cell, yelling insults at the men who hit him on the head. "If I get a lump I'm going to rip you a new—"

"Shut up!" the guard finally said. "Or I'll knock you out again! Stupid freak..."

"If you want to see something freaky, come here," he said sourly, flexing his arm.

Hotohori awoke and sat upright, rubbing his head. "Calm down, Nuriko-kun," he said laughingly. "They'll be down soon."

"This buffoon is taunting me," he said, frowning at the man who jingled the keys just out of Nuriko's grasp. "You stupid bastard! If the emperor hadn't told me not to raise hell, I'd be on you so fast..."

"Silence," a strong, feminine voice commanded. The sound echoed sharply through the cement dungeon, sending chills up their spines. Hotohori stood. He knew that voice. In the few short weeks he had known her, he had come to know that voice better than anything else. It was so much like Nuriko's—she was so much like him—but womanly, alluring, yet filled with power.

"Houki," he murmured.

The woman came to a halt in front of the cell, staring disbelievingly. Her green eyes stared at the figure before her. "Saihitei?" she whispered.

"Houki," he said quietly, reaching out of the bars. She had aged greatly in the time since he had known her. She was an old woman of about sixty, he would guess. Her skin was soft and wrinkled, her hair darted with white, her finger fuller, but her eyes, those stunning eyes, were the same as the day he had become his empress. He had not loved her. He had loved Miaka, and he had loved Nuriko, but he had been fond of her, had respected her, and had missed her. They had shared something intimate—a child had been the fruit of their coupling. How could he not have fondness for her?

She recoiled like his hand was a viper. "This can't be," she said softly. "You look almost as you did the day you died. You've aged mere years while I've aged decades. Please, avert your eyes from my homely form." She turned her head so that only her grand profile showed. She was aged, but she was still beautiful.

"My empress, you are as beautiful as I had remembered," he spoke softly. He noticed Nuriko touch his arm lightly.

"Let them out!" she cried. "Let them out this instant!"

The guard unlocked the door and Nuriko made a show of pushing past him. "Highness," he knelt low before him. "It is an honor to see you again," his eyes twinkled. "I do hope you do not still choke yourself on your scarves by accident."

The woman blushed. "Kourin?"

"It's Ryuuen now, but most people call me Nuriko."

She looked at him, puzzled. "You're a man," she said bluntly.

"I always was a man, I just hid it," he explained.

"Pervert!" she shrieked girlishly. "You saw me naked!"

Nuriko laughed softly and stood up. "It's good to see you, Houki."

She nodded and Nuriko stepped aside, allowing the woman's eyes to settle on Hotohori. "Saihitei," she took a step forward. "Is it really you?" She reached forward and touched his chest as if not believing he was flesh and blood.

He wrapped his arms around her and felt her body mold to him gladly. She sighed and then he pulled away. "I am glad you are well."

"Come, we'll move from the holding cells. This is no place for His Highness. You will, of course, be given your old rooms. Boushin will gladly move for you."

"Boushin," Hotohori murmured softly. "That won't be necessary. I will stay in guest rooms. I fear we cannot stay long."

"Must you go?" she turned to him, her green eyes distraught. "Must you leave again?"

"We will discuss such matters later. For now, it is a time to celebrate reunion. I believe I have a son to meet," he gave her his most charming smile and she melted.

Her face turned serious once again. "Saihitei, I don't understand why you're here, but there is one question I must ask."

He cocked his head slightly.

"What are those clothes you're wearing?"


	5. Chapter 4: Dimension Salad

Chapter Four - Dimension Salad

Nakago and Miaka followed the boy back to his family's home. It was no more than a hut of sod and straw, but it held and they were welcomed graciously into the family's midst. In the hut was a woman with a child at her breast and another at her feet, an old man, and a loud, yipping dog.

"My father is not yet in from the morning's labor, but he'll return soon enough, then we can eat. Mother, these people saved me from death! We must feed them!" the boy said to his mother.

"We have enough for that," she said serenely, looking down at her nursing child. "I would stand, but I am feeding. I hope you'll forgive me. I am Hay, Jule's mother."

"Nice to meet you," they bowed.

"Thank you for your help. My son likes to wander and speak to the creature," she shook her head.

"They killed it," Jule said quietly. "It attacked me, so they killed it."

"It had gone mad. We are without a guardian, but it was dead before its body was gone," she retorted.

"Another sign," the old man said. "The disaster is coming. The evil one will walk this world again."

"What do you know about this, grandfather?" Miaka went over to him, kneeling before him and grasping his hand. "Can you tell us anything about this disaster?"

"Do you know about the wise woman and the evil one who battled many a century ago?" he questioned, squinting to see her.

Miaka shook her head slowly. She really didn't know a lot about this world, all things considered. She knew about the four gods, and the four demon lords, about Taiitsukun and Tenkou, but she knew pitifully little of their lore.

Nakago stood impassively against the side of the wall. He had a feeling he knew of what the old man spoke, but let him tell his tale.

"It is said that when two people around bound together by destiny, the children they bring into the world are special. A creature of destiny, bound to it irreparably, is born. The child is set apart, it can see destiny in a way others can't," the old man explained, his rasping voice tired, but eager to share what he knew. "Legend says that the evil one, Lord Tenkou, was a child born of destiny. He had the power to peer into the future, the power of knowledge and wisdom, but he chose to use his power poorly, and instead became evil. He became first a sorcerer, then contracted with the demons to bring destruction and gain power."

"That's how Tenkou came about? But I thought he was an evil deity that had always existed?" the woman question, her hazel eyes puzzled. "If he wasn't always there, where does Taiitsukun come in?"

"The being known as Taiitsukun is another child of destiny. Her parents were brought together and bore her a few years after Tenkou's destruction began. She grew quickly in power and saw an end to her world if nothing was done. She used her powers to study the magical arts. The two battled. Tenkou was more experienced, more powerful, and had the power of the demons on her side. However, Taiitsukun had learned the secrets of the four gods and summoned their powers. Though she was still not as powerful as he and could never kill him, she split the world."

"She couldn't kill him, but she could split the world? That seems impossible," the woman murmured.

"That is the extent of their powers," Nakago chimed. "Their power is unfathomable."

"It is said that she split the world from ours and created a new world from all that remained good in ours, however I believe differently. I believe this world resides within the other. She knew the damage to this world was great, so she closed the damaged world so that what remained would have freedom. She split his spirit and sealed him into four items in the other world. Tenkou's body remains entombed here, forever preserved in a shroud in this world. However, the great goddess' power spent, she slept for thousands of years. Because of the four gods our world has improved, however Tenkou's presence is still felt in this world, as I'm sure it is felt in the other, because he remains in both."

Nakago stepped in. He had, of course, heard this before. This was ancient folk-lore, and while he had never really given it much thought, he had known of it. What he hadn't considered was the possibility of the worlds being so tied by Tenkou's continuing presence. He hadn't known that Tenkou's body remained alive.

"The disaster foretold is the meeting of these two worlds, isn't it?" he questioned.

The old man nodded slightly. "It is said that if the worlds meet, they will destroy each other."

"A paradox," he murmured to himself. "The worlds originated from a mutual history, but their courses differed dramatically. Our world advanced because the forces of good and evil were somewhat shunted, and the destruction this world suffered was not a part of ours. This world is stuck in development because of the vast destruction it suffered."

"Then our worlds are uniting?" Miaka asked softly.

The only response she got was a solemn nod.

Nuriko and Hotohori found their rooms. It was extremely surreal to be back after a life time. They had both lived in the palace for a very, very long time. To be guests instead of residents was almost overwhelming.

Hotohori was having trouble adapting to his role as the previous emperor. Houki had tried to insist that he go to the throne once again, but he had refused. He was not for inherited positions. He had been born into inherited positions twice and twice they had made him miserable. After denouncing the throne the second time he had sworn to never take any position he hadn't earned ever again. Still, he was being given the royal treatment. It wasn't that he had gotten unused to it, because that wasn't true (he had bodyguards and escorts everywhere). It was the fact that it was once his empire and now he was just passing through. It was the fact that Houki was his wife, but now he and Nuriko had some kind of relationship, though they had never really discussed the nature of it (it just sort of happened), and it was that he had never met his son and he would be older than Hotohori's own physical body. It was just weird all over.

Nuriko, on the other hand, was having a blast. The strong Seishi usually found entertainment in any situation and he was having great fun flirting with the new harem girls that skittered about in pairs, giggling behind their hands at the cute newcomers. Really, he was quite shameless...

Houki had left to go give Boushin some warning about his father's sudden appearance. She didn't want him caught off guard, so she ran ahead. Now they were nearing the palace doors. Hotohori pushed away the strangeness of walking into his throne room for an audience with his son.

The shorter Seishi paused in his flirting and laughing. "Hotohori, do you think Houki is still in love with you?" he asked quietly.

He nodded slightly.

"Are you still in love with her?" his voice lowered to a shy whisper.

"Are you jealous?" the former emperor replied, turning to the man.

"A little. Are you? In love, I mean."

He shook his head. "I never really was."

"Are you excited about meeting Boushin?" he changed the subject.

"If by excited you mean my entrails are trying to tie themselves in a bow, then yes, I'm extremely excited," he said dryly. "Terrified is more like it."

"And yet you look so cool and collected," he shook his head. "But your hair is sticking up."

"It is?" he looked stricken, searching for a mirror on his person.

Nuriko laughed softly and reached forward, brushing down the wayward strands gently. "I was more than a little jealous at first," he said softly, standing on his toes and bringing his lips close to the taller man's mouth.

"Good," he replied, smiling and letting his lips brush Nuriko's soft pout. "Shall we enter?"

"What?" Nuriko pulled away, blinking in confusion and hiding a blush. "Oh! The throne room! Yes, that we should!" he laughed nervously.

"Ladies first," he smirked.

"My pleasure, your highness."

Nuriko pushed the enormous door open with ease and stepped inside. He bowed with a flourish and looked to the throne. Houki stood serenely beside the familiar dais, and seated on the soft seat was a man who could have been Hotohori's twin for all intents and purposes. His eyes widened slightly as he tried to pinpoint the differences, and then he regained his composure and spoke. "May I present, your highness, the great Saihitei, emperor of Konan, Suzaku no Seishi, and father?"

With another extravagant bow, Nuriko stepped aside, holding the door open as Hotohori stepped inside. His amber eyes glinted in the bright light of the room. The court had been cleared leaving the vast room empty save for the four of them. His footsteps echoed as he moved into the room. Nuriko followed silently behind.

Boushin stood slowly as his father came into clear view. He stepped down the dais carefully and waited for the man to continue his approach. He took a soft breath to steady himself when they were close enough to touch.

"Father?" the man whispered, his brown eyes full of emotion.

The man nodded.

"I can't believe it," he said softly, reaching out to touch his progenitor and then deciding against it. "I always imagined you older. You look younger than me."

"I always imagined you younger," he replied.

Nuriko laughed softly, breaking the tension.

"You two look like long lost twins," he stepped forward and offered his hand. "My name is Ryuuen, but you may call me Nuriko, if you like."

"Nuriko? You are another Suzaku no Seishi?" he questioned, looking at the shorter man.

"Of course."

"You look like my mother," he said with wonder in his eyes.

"Except without boobs, and probably with other things I doubt she possesses, given your existence," he grinned happily.

"Oh!" he looked quite surprised when he realized the beautiful person before him was a man. He hadn't even noticed his slim, square build. "My apologies." Boushin looked quite flustered and took a step back as if to resume his throne.

Hotohori glanced at the throne. How many times had he used that to keep somebody at arms length? Nuriko, however, stepped in before he could retreat.

"Well, I'm flattered I can still pass for a woman. I had to put a lot of energy into it back when your mother and I were in the harem," he laughed.

The tension broke and Boushin allowed himself to smile.

"This is so formal. Why don't we go to the antechamber and I'll have some tea brought," Houki slowly moved down the stairs, her old frame still graceful.

Boushin led the way, though he realized that his father knew the way just as well as he, as did this Ryuuen character, judging by his excited expression. He had been to the small room behind the throne only a few times. It obviously brought back fond memories.

Hotohori walked by his son's side. They were within a quarter of an inch in height and their long, chestnut hair was perhaps only a shade off, the son's being slightly darker than the father's. They had the same noble arched nose, the same large, warm eyes, though Boushin's were a deep brown.

"It's eerie, isn't it?" Boushin said, catching his father's glance.

The former emperor felt like he was an eighteen year old kid again, like he had just gotten caught doing something bad. "What?"

"How similar we look. Mother always said I was carved from the same mold, and she didn't lie. I think we really could pass as twins, or at least brothers..." he trailed off, imagining that as awkward as this was for him, it was ten times worse for the father who had suddenly gained a son. Boushin had always known he had a father, but Hotohori no doubt living his life in the real world had not given him a thought in quite some time, and to have a son, no matter how old, thrust upon him had to be strange.

"How old are you?" Nuriko asked curiously.

"Thirty-nine," he replied, looking somewhat embarrassed. "I'm sure I'm older than you. Nakago was only twenty-eight when he came in, and I imagine he had at least five years on both of you."

"Yes," Hotohori confirmed. "We're both thirty-one... You met Nakago?"

"I didn't take revenge," he said sheepishly. "He seemed different. I hated him for a long time. I hated all I knew of him, but then when I knew him, when he told me he was sorry for killing you, for everything... I couldn't hate him."

"Nakago apologized?" Nuriko murmured.

The emperor nodded. "He told me you died well. He said he admired you because you fought with your troops instead of hiding like his emperor, and that he associated..." he trailed off. "I probably shouldn't tell you."

"What?" the younger man pounced. This was new. He had never heard of Nakago's remorse for anything, though he supposed he should have realized Miaka would never choose so poorly as to marry somebody who was still evil.

"Please don't mention that I told it, but he confessed to me that he shared the emperor of Kutou's bed on more than one occasion... not by choice... when he was a child. He associated you, because of your status, with vile things."

The two guests exchanged glances. Shock, horror, revulsion, and understanding passed between them, and it made them trust him just a little more.

"Please, don't tell him that I mentioned it. I'm sure it's something he would rather keep private. I shouldn't have said, but I thought... maybe it would help you understand. Anyway," he changed the subject. "Onto the real issue here. How did you get into this world?"

Miaka and her husband enjoyed the meal with Jule's family but insisted that they must travel on. They explained about their daughter and the mother recommended they visit the capital. The emperor was kind, they said, and would likely help them locate their wayward daughter. Miaka was inclined to agree with that statement, and for all the knew, Nuriko and Hotohori had ended up in the palace.

They set out along their way. Miaka mulled over the things she had heard. It seemed to her that everything that had happened in the last few years was in some way working toward this. One thing she had come to appreciate was acts of destiny. She had realized even after the first time into the ShiJinTenshiSho that not only the book into which she and Yui were drawn, but their world, was one mysterious drama. For all they knew, their lives in the other world were being watched by millions of people on a television, or read in a book. Everything, she knew, was part of something larger, and because of that, everything happened for a reason.

Of course she wanted to scream about how unfair her life was. She had been drawn into the book now three times, and each time it seemed that nothing good came out of it. People died or nearly died, and things only got worse after. Except that good things happened too. There was Nakago, who redeemed himself and became an ally, a friend, lover, and finally a father. There was her precious daughter, who she suspected was a child like Taiitsukun and Tenkou, a child born of two people who were absolutely destined for each other. There was the way that all her Seishi had become united again, how they couldn't part, like they were the ultimate cast of characters that had to end up together in the end. She knew that whatever had begun thirteen years ago the first time she had opened that book, it was coming to a head now.

They walked north towards the capital. It would be a day of walking at least, but they had certainly entertained worse prospects in previous journeys in this world. The family had left them with two deerskins filled with water and a loaf of bread, and on top of Miaka's supply of food and drink, should last them quite a while.

From afar Nakago felt a brief and powerful surge of chi and stepped close to his wife seconds before a huge burst of flame lit the area about three kilometers before them. It only took him a moment to recognize the feel of that arson.

"A huge explosion and a burst of chi. I'll give you three guesses as to which of your Seishi that is, but you'll only need one..."

"Tasuki!" Miaka cried. "What's he doing down here?"

"I imagine that he is practicing his pyrotechnic techniques. Or perhaps he's making dinner."

"I do declare, Gi Ayuru, that you are making jokes," she said in a strange half-Osaka accent.

"You called me Ayuru," his brows arched in surprise.

She shrugged. "I like the way it rolls off my tongue. Ayuuuuruuuu," she laughed. "But you'll always be Nakago to me."

"Because I'm a sexy and powerful warrior," he smirked.

"Because you're an ass and always look out of place just like you did in Kutou."

Nakago barked out a short laugh and they picked up their pace. If Tasuki was out here, there was a reason for it, even if it was nothing more than fate.

They came upon the charred remains of a forest and stopped. The ground and skeletal remains of the trees were still smoldering. It seemed queer that his chi had disappeared even though he couldn't have gotten far. He had to be a man of nearly 60 by now, because of the way the book had aged before time slowed, so Nakago doubted that even with his speed he would be getting very far very fast.

"Rekka... Shinen!" the voice rose suddenly out of nowhere. Miaka screamed and Nakago threw a chi shield around them both quickly, wrapping his arms around her small body.

"Are ya dead yet, ya filthy bastard?" he growled, dropping from a tree.

"Not yet," Nakago responded. "Why don't you try to flash fry us again?"

"Miaka-chan? What are you doing here?" dropping from the only tree not smoking and spotting the woman between her lovers arms. "And why is he wrapped around you like a poncho?"

"Tasuki!" she cried, running toward him and wrapping her arms around his waist, which had gotten a little softer since the last time she'd seen him. "How are you!"

"Old. How are you?" he looked down at her. "Beautiful as ever, I see. Why are you with him again? Another coincidental meeting?"

"Actually..."

"We're lovers," he interjected. He opened his mouth to say something shocking lewd but Miaka elbowed him in the side before he could dig a hole and bury them both in it.

"We're married," she explained.

"You're WHAT!" he exploded. "What happened to Tamahome! You were supposed to be together forever!"

Her eyes saddened a little and she was silent.

"Your tact is, as usual, impeccable," the blonde drew her now-shaking frame against his own. "Tamahome died nine years ago in our world."

"Died?" he asked softly. "How?"

"Murdered. Poisoned, to be specific. We married two years later. We're here because our daughter has been taken," his voice became dark and even Tasuki perceived the emotion hidden there. "Have you heard anything from the sorcerer about a special child being taken to this world?"

"Come to think of it, I have heard something, but it hasn't been from Chichiri. Taiitsukun needed somebody to keep an eye on things down here since Chichiri is pretty busy in Taiitsukun's domains communing with God and all that. I'm a certified demon hunter—that's why I was obliterating this piece of the land. It had become twisted with demonic power because there was a nest here. I thought you were the demons trying to get away."

"That's highly flattering," he said dryly. "But of my daughter?"

"Demons like to chatter amongst themselves. They like to brag that they've done something in special service of Tenkou and the other dark lords. I exterminated another nest yesterday where I heard them talking about a girl. They just called her 'the girl' so that doesn't mean much, but it said it had helped the overlord to get the girl, that it had held open the gate, which means a walkway through the dimensions."

"A walkway between dimensions? What are you talking about, Tasuki?" Miaka looked concerned, not only for her child, but for the world which had become so whole.

"The last ten years have been a lot different than the times we grew up in," he nodded to Nakago grimly. "While the plague of our era was war, we now face a dimensional fault. In other words, time and space are disintegrating under our feet. Pockets have begun to form all over, places where different times and places intersect. They're kind of like gateways where reality has worn thin, like old fabric getting moth holes, except that if you stick your finger through this hole you could end up in any number of places and times, and the gates... some are always there, some come and go."

"Why is this happening?" Miaka whispered, afraid. What would it mean for these pockets to spring up in their world? What if they already had?"

"Tenkou," the blonde said grimly. "Tenkou's body and soul are sealed in two different places. For ten years or more, his minions and other demons who wish to gain his favor have been trying to reunite him. The demon on the cruise eight years ago, for one. He must have created a gateway to find the artifact that was on our cruise."

Tasuki nodded. "Demons can create temporary gateways as long as another demon holds the gateway open, but others are areas that were temporary that... got a leak, so to speak. Like the door cracked and somebody just kept kicking it until it broke. You have to be on the look out for these when you're traveling."

"How can we tell?" Nakago asked.

"Most of them, the space around them is warped. It's like a mirage on a hot day. Those you can feel for by keeping your senses open. You know how usually everything has an aura?"

The former Shogun nodded.

"Well, these are like great big blanks, like somebody just cut out the space and left it empty."

"What about those that are temporary and random?" he questioned.

"Just hope you're lucky. There's no way to sense them, no way to stop them. If you get sucked in, you can usually get out the same way you came in, but you might have to wait for it to open again. Sometimes you can jimmy it. I got stuck in New York City once and had to wait in a dumpster for a day for the damn thing to open again."

Tasuki ran his fingers through his disheveled, greying flame hair and looked at the sun. "I wish I could guide you, but I need to get back to Taiitsukun's. She's been having me wipe out as many nests as I can to keep any more tears from happening. You don't want these demons in your world where there's hardly any magic, you know? I'll tell Chichiri to keep an eye on you in case you get in trouble." The flame-haired man tapped his tessen against a charred tree twice and a large portal opened on its side. He waved once and stepped one leg into it.

"I'd suggest going to Kutou. There is a temple of Tenkou there. If not there, then at the Center where you went before."

Miaka tried to protest and ask more, but he was gone. "Things have really been going downhill here, and in only ten years..."

"It seems we need to be careful and say close. We will probably need to go to the Center, but we should still go to Kutou and get horses and see if we can find Hotohori and Nuriko. They will be of use on this journey."

Miaka nodded silently and they carried on.


	6. Chapter 5: Blur

Chapter Five – Blur

Hotohori gave the brief synopsis of what was going on in his and Nuriko's life (without going into personal detail), and about why they happened to be at Nakago and Miaka's place when they were drawn into the book.

"So they did end up together," Boushin mused.

The two gave him a puzzled glance so he explained.

"When they first came they were insistent on separate rooms. They seemed to loathe one another, but though their stay was quick, there was much development between them as friends. They seemed to have something unique between them... Something I couldn't place, but I remember thinking that they would make a beautiful couple."

"That's debatable," Hotohori said quietly.

"I know you loved her," the son said. "But she wasn't meant for you."

The previous emperor gazed for a long time into his son's eyes. His son, who was very much how he was then, quiet and reserved, polite, but who was also so much more perceptive.

"I think I loved the idea of her. I love her, but as a sister, as my priestess. I will always love her in that way, as we all will," he looked to Nuriko, who nodded. "But I liked it better with Tamahome. He was one of us."

They were silent for a moment and then the conversation continued on.

"What are the current political affairs?" Hotohori inquired. "I'm sure much has changed since my reign. We were totally dedicated to war with Kutou—preparing for it, fighting it... Has there been such hostile climate lately?"

"Kutou is a terse ally at this point. I believe that the previous emperor wished for dominion over all the lands, and that the previous Shogun was egged on in part by him into warring with Konan, although I'm sure he had his own motivations," he spoke of the man as if it wasn't somebody they all knew. "What we have now is uncontrollable famine and natural disaster, disappearances, and anarchy because of it. We've had to enact marshal law quite a few times because of the gang uprisings. The syndicates take the disappearances as a sign that the heavens have given sanction to kidnap people, so they have started human trades. Our soldiers are combating this, but unrest is grave and revolution seems likely, which is worrisome."

Hotohori nodded. It seemed that his son had quite a grasp on the affairs. "What is your plan to head this off?"

"Currently, we've offered incentives to those who leave the syndicates and give us information, which has helped to some extent. Most of them are out simply to get money. If they get money from us, who needs the syndicate? Some of them take it as oppression of "free trade" and want war with the government. We have tried several different forms of propaganda to reassure the people that we are looking out for their best interests, but..."

"Are there officials infiltrating these cells?" the former emperor questioned.

"A few, but the information isn't reliable. The syndicates are looking for rats and spread false information. We've been following a plot about a planned uprising, but I don't know how much we can trust it."

"You may want to encourage the people to be equipped to defends themselves. If the gangs decide to march in the capital, they will kill all who won't join them. If there are revolutions stemming throughout the countryside including the peasants, you will need to guard the city securely."

Boushin nodded. "Of course," he agreed. "The activity is hot and explosive at the moment. We're waiting to see what happens. Several cells have threatened to move in the past few days, and we fear a revolution. In many ways this has become an archaic society since the gates began to open and disasters befell us. They see disaster as a removal of the mandate of the gods, and believe that the royal line is to blame."

"Well, the good news is, we got you some good publicity when we were in the city. They thought I was you. We blessed the peasants as we walked by, so hopefully their optimism will improve their conditions."

"We can only hope so, at this point."

Nakago and Miaka walked through the land cautiously. Among Tasuki's voiced warnings of the gates, there was also the implication that demons were abundant as of late and to be wary of any suspicious chi. The blonde warrior was on highest guard. Miaka was complaining of his body heat because he insisted on holding onto her, but he didn't want her farther than arm's length from him through these woods.

Periodically, he felt a flash of dark, twisted chi, and it made his blood freeze for a few seconds. Between those, he felt great blankets of lifelessness, where there should have been chi, but was only a hole in the fabric of time itself. It occurred to Nakago as they walked that if time was moving at a different pace in both worlds, these pockets of time or whatever they were, would be vastly more dangerous. To leave one world would be to enter another world's time. A day in one could be a year, or a decade in another. With time moving in sync, at least for now they should be able to return to the same time. He supposed that was not an accident either. Hadn't the sorcerer confessed to being responsible for the time shifts? Had he sensed this coming? Or had it been word from God or whatever being of light he communed with?

The warrior shook the thoughts. It was unwise to get lost in thought when there were such dangers lurking around them. As if on cue, Miaka chose that exact moment to rip away from his hands and bolt forward.

"Stop! What are you doing?" he ran after her.

"I hear somebody... she's... she's dying. She needs help!"

"It's a trick!" he shouted, but it was too late. Miaka disappeared into the great blur of empty chi before him. He had no choice but to follow.

Miaka stopped when she realized what had happened. She had heard the screams, but they hadn't been in that world. She ran straight into a vast slum with tiny houses jammed tightly side by side. She heard a woman being beaten brutally and ran toward the noise. She heard Nakago behind her so didn't bother waiting for him. He'd catch up.

"What are you doing?!" she shrieked at the man.

The man looked at her with disdain and raised his hand to her. Nakago caught it.

Miaka surveyed her surroundings, confused. This man was not Japanese, yet all she saw around was the round faces of her people. The foreigner didn't surprise her much—she had married the least Japanese looking man in the country—but the fact that he was a police officer did. Under closer inspection, this was not Japan. The street signs were all in English and there were many officers chasing people out of their houses and loading them into vans.

"What's going on?" she asked, looking at Nakago. His eyes were scanning slowly around. He caught a glimpse of one of the few cars parked along the street. A 1934 Ford. They were most definitely not in Japan. He caught a glimpse of a newspaper lying on the ground. "December 16th, 1941," he said. "Nine days after the attack on Pearl Harbor."

"Then... this is America, of the past?" she asked softly.

The police officer was looking at Nakago with dislike and apprehension. "Why are you defending these Japs, pal?" he asked in English.

"This is my wife," he growled in English that sounded heavily accented from his native German, even to himself.

"You a Nazi, boy?" the man finally wrestled his hand away and held up his night stick. "You and your Jap wife here to invade our country?"

Miaka tried to speak English. "We want no trouble," she explained. "We here to find our daughter." She slipped into Japanese and grumbled something about Japanese school systems teaching grammar but not conversation.

"You'll both need to come with us," another officer approached, one that appeared by higher in ranking judging by the others' reaction to his presence. "We need to see your green cards. Do you have green cards?" he spoke slowly and very loud.

"I'm not deaf," Nakago muttered in English. "I left my passport in my apartment." This was not a lie.

"I think you'd better come with us," the man glanced at Nakago's sword. "Now."

Miaka was pulled away from Nakago by one of the officers before she could protest and before he could retaliate, there was a gun to his head. The young woman screamed and struggled. "Don't move or I'll kill him," the man told Miaka slowly. She stopped screaming but whimpered to herself. She knew that even Nakago was not immune to being shot point blank in the head. Nakago stood perfectly still. He was not surprised when he felt the butt of the gun come down on his head. His eyes darkened and he passed out.

"Nakago?" Miaka's voice quavered as she was thrown into a dark room. "Nakago! Doko wa ikimashita?"

"Quiet, Jap," she heard in English.

"Where is my husband?" she asked in their native language. "Where did you take him?"

"That Nazi bastard was taken to the police for questioning," the man in the room with her sat down. Miaka was frightened. She was trapped in a different time thanks to her own impulsiveness, her husband was nowhere to be found, and it seemed that the climate was pretty hostile.

"He is no Nazi," she tried to explain. "He raised near American military base. He hates... how do you say...? Mass murder?" Her voice sounded shaky and choppy in her own ears, and she doubted that she was making any sense. What she wanted to say is that Nakago would never be a Nazi. Nakago's people were destroyed by genocide and the only genocide he would approve of would be to irradiate the stupid, but that would pretty much leave him and a few others, so even that was only a pipe dream. She thought maybe he got the picture.

"Is he a refuge from Nazi Germany?" the man asked.

Miaka looked puzzled, wishing she had remembered more of her English from high school. "Did he escape?" the man said slowly. "Leave Germany?"

She nodded.

"What are you doing here? You are not registered with immigration. Are you illegal?"

"Illegal?" she repeated. "I end up here by accident. My husband can explain. He speak English well."

She knew she sounded idiotic and wished she could help it, but what she really wished for was Nakago to come bursting into the room. She knew she would get lost and would have a hard time outrunning their police if they found her. She had never been fast, and now she was almost thirty. Any speed she'd had as a product of youth was long gone.

"You will stay here until you can prove that you're not working with the Jap government, do you understand? Your little rice eating friends are going to work here with you."

Miaka had finally realized what this place was. If this was just after Pearl Harbor, these people likely feared terrorist attacks on the homeland, so they formed camps to keep the Japanese to make sure they weren't spies. Understandable, but ridiculous, especially considering their outrage at what was happening to the Jews in Germany. But she knew there was nothing to do about it...

The guard, a sandy haired man with green eyes and an ugly mustache, grabbed her arm and pulled her into a narrow hallway. She was taken through the hall and outside where other Japanese were milling around and looking lost. She looked around at the pale, frightened faces and determined that she was not going to wait around to be rescued. She was perfectly capable of escaping, and even if they did catch her, what would they do? She could put up a chi shield around herself and wait for the cavalry.

"Sumimasen," somebody apologized as he ran into her.

"Iie iie," she replied, looking around. The compound was surrounded by high walls topped with barbed wire. The first thing she needed to do was locate Nakago's chi. She closed her eyes and reached out her senses for him. She had been working on keeping track of people's chi ever since she had married Nakago. She had a tendency to wander off and wanted to assure her husband that she'd be able to find him if they were separated, not that she couldn't take care of herself, but he got nervous when she disappeared at random. She felt a faint glimmer of his chi, but he was purposely projecting it from a pretty large distance so that she could find it.

"Okay, now I just need to get over the fence. How the hell am I going to do that?" she wondered, looking at the fence that was at least three times her height and topped with deadly barbs. She couldn't very well knock the whole fence down, that would surely get their attention.

Focusing her energy to flow through her feet she levitated an inch off the ground. That, too, she had been practicing. She wasn't very good, but she imagined that if she could get a good enough jump from another structure that she could control her descent enough not to crash into the ground, or worse, the wire.

"Excuse me," a young man said to her. "Do you know why we're here?"

Miaka glanced around and noticed that a lot of people had begun to look at her. This was not good. She supposed she looked out of place with her twenty-first century clothing, but she also looked to be the least stunned. Nobody else could believe that this was happening, but Miaka had been captured so many times, after the initial shock of being in a different time wore off she had grown alert.

"We're here because they think we're for the Japanese government to spy. They fear us because of the attack on Pearl Harbor. We need to stay calm."

There were murmurs and mutters and Miaka sighed. How did she always end up taking charge of these situations?

Nakago blinked for a moment, trying to gain his bearings. His hands were cuffed behind his back, his sword was being examined by a bunch of slow looking officers. He shook his head to clear the cobwebby feeling and get his hair out of his eyes.

"What's the sword for, Nazi?" the man asked, pulling the blade.

It was obvious by the way he held it that he had no idea how to deal with a sword. "I'd appreciate you not associating me with the Nazi party. I have no attachment to that regime."

"German boy speaks English pretty well," the second man cooed.

The moment he awoke, Nakago began to project his chi toward Miaka so she would be able to locate him if she were freed. His skin tingled with chi. "I grew up near an American military base. My mother was the daughter of a U.S. Soldier."

"Then let's see your papers," he slapped the sword on the table.

Nakago did not need to be told that it would be a very bad idea to tell these men that he hadn't been born yet. While magic and sorcery was common in the world of the book, such things were generally viewed as make-believe in this one. He did not especially want to end up in an asylum. "I forgot them."

"But you remembered your sword," the man sheathed it and threw it on the table.

"I was going to go into the forest. I couldn't find my machete," he said dryly.

"Funny man, eh?" one of the guards moved toward him, swinging his fist toward Nakago's face. The blonde smirked. His fist connected, but Nakago doubted that his pain was anything compared to the man who swung.

"Little bastards got a charge!" he screamed, holding his hand, which was burned from touching the focused energy around him. "What the hells is that?!"

"I would not advise touching me. I have a little problem with building up electricity," he smiled serenely.

Miaka, after appointing somebody else to take charge, scuttled over to the fence in the direction from which Nakago's chi had originated and began to climb. There was a large pile of kindling beside the closest building. It gave her enough of a boost that she could get her foot to the window sill. She kicked the window and pulled herself up over the lip of the building. Unfortunately, when she'd kicked the window, the officers inside came running to it to see what was going on. When they realized she was climbing they ran outside.

"Come down right now or we'll shoot you!" the men threatened.

"I'd like to see you try," she muttered, erecting a chi shield around herself. She used a bit of levitation for the final boost onto the roof and stood, looking down at the men, who were unsure of what to do. She was sure that to them it looked like she would jump to her death, so it would be stupid to shoot her to keep her from jumping.

"Thank you for your hospitality," she said in English. "Goodbye!" With that she jumped off the roof. The men scrambled out of her path of descent, but were shocked to see her simply soar across from the roof to the fence, her body glowing with red light. She didn't begin to descend until she was nearly over the fence. Her leg scraped on the wire, but she managed to control the fall so she landed neatly on the other side of the fence. "Or as we say in Japan, Sayonara!"

The woman ran away from the fence and into the surrounding brush, following Nakago's distinct chi signature. She heard the alarms sound and soldiers running after her, but continued on, urging herself to make it just a little further. She happened a glance behind and realized they were close. This wouldn't do. Giving herself a chi burst, the woman swung up into one of the thickly branched trees. The weather, being in California, wasn't especially cold and the fog was thick so she waited until the soldiers passed and then began to half-jump/half-levitate from tree to tree until she made it closer to the city. Before going into public, she pulled out a hooded jacket she'd packed and threw it on, grabbing her sunglasses and keeping her head down. She walked along the streets until she came to a building that she assumed was a police station. She felt Nakago's chi like a strobe light emanating from the building and walked in.

"May I help you?" a secretary questioned.

"Yes," she spoke very slowly in English to hide her accent. "I am a lawyer here to speak to the man accused of being a Nazi."

"I'll take you to his cell," the woman stood up briskly. "Why are you wearing that hood?"

"Skin condition," she replied tartly.

"Oooh, you know I have some great creams for that," the woman said. "I sell cosmetics part time! Can I see?"

"No," she responded. "Please lead me to the man."

Miaka followed silently, trying to ignore the woman's chatter. It's not that she wanted to be rude, but she couldn't understand enough to respond, and she was somewhat focused on what she was doing. They turned a few corners and ended up standing in front of a two way mirror.

The good news was that Nakago knew his rights and knew what not to say to investigators because of his occupation. The bad news is that he had no records because he hadn't been born. Miaka knocked on the door and it was opened.

"Who are you?" the man asked.

Miaka didn't wait for the man to step aside, she stepped on his foot and shoved him out of the way. She grabbed the sword and pulled her husband to his feet. The man jumped over his cuffed hands so they were in front and sent a small bolt of energy toward the man with the keys. Miaka grabbed them off his belt and unlocked the handcuffs.

"Your sword," she said.

"Let's go," he grabbed her hand and headed for the door. He led them outside just as the alarms began to sound. Miaka looked down the street and saw several soldiers shout and point in their direction. "We have to get back to the gateway."

"I don't remember where we were!" she cried. "Do you remember the cross streets?"

He nodded and took her hand. He had been unconscious when he was brought, but he was certain they were in San Fransisco, and was pretty sure the slums where in the same area.

They ran down a back alleyway to get away from the immediate dangers. Unfortunately, there were more patrolmen and they began to chase them.

"We're going to end up in that same stupid forest," Miaka grumbled.

"Perhaps not," the blonde said, scanning around with narrow eyes. The woman could tell he wasn't just looking with his eyes.

"There... this way," he pulled her hand. "We don't know where we'll end up, but it has to be better than this."

"Is there another gate?" she panted. "And how far is it? I'm not in the shape I used to be."

"You were never in shape," she said jokingly. "It's not much farther. It's below the bridge."

It didn't take much longer for them to make it to the Golden Gate bridge. They ran until they got to the bridge.

"How do we get to it?" Miaka stopped. Nakago pulled her onto the bridge. "You said it was under the bridge." She looked down, seeing the warped area. She grasped that it was truly under the bridge a few moments later and stopped. "No way! I'm not jumping off a bridge! You have no idea where we'll end up!"

Nakago tugged her arm. "Come on, we don't have much time. It's not going to be open much longer. We can't fight all these people. If we kill somebody we could alter the future."

Miaka admitted that he had a point, but the prospect of jumping off a bridge did not bode well for her. Unfortunately, the choice was made for them when the soldiers and officers closed in on them. "Nakago, why don't we just go quietly, we haven't done anything wrong, they should let us go."

"The only place you'll go is a work camp, and me to jail," he wrapped his arms around her.

"Nakago, don't you dare, I'm going to kill you!" Miaka shrieked as Nakago threw them both off the bridge and they plummeted towards the waters.


	7. Chapter 6: Yore

Chapter Six – Yore

The guests at the palace had been given bedrooms and gone to bed after a satisfying evening meal. Hotohori sat down on his bed shirtless and undid his loose ponytail. His hair fell around him in a waterfall and he began to brush.

His door slid open and the warrior looked up. "Nuriko. Is something wrong?"

He shook his head and came to his side. Hotohori looked at the shorter man with slight puzzlement. "Did you need something?"

"No. Am I bothering you?" he questioned. "I'll leave."

"No, you're not bothering me," he grabbed the powerful arm. "It's just unexpected. Come in, sit with me. Do you want to brush my hair?"

Nuriko took the brush silently and began to run the soft bristles through the long strands. "I kind of miss having long hair," he admitted. "Do you think I should grow it out?"

"I liked it long, but I like it this way too," he said softly.

"Seeing Boushin for the first time has you pretty shaken up." It really wasn't a question. Hotohori nodded. "He seems to be doing a good job despite all the chaos. He really is your son."

"He's older than me," he said lamely.

"You still procreated him. In a way, you procreated yourself," he laughed softly. "If you follow out the family lines..."

"Don't talk of such things, it makes my head hurt."

"Then I'll give you a back rub to get rid of that tenseness," Nuriko said playfully, setting down the brush and pushing the long hair out of the way. The former emperor groaned softly as the tenseness was gently rubbed away by strong fingers. He relaxed against the slender man. Nuriko kissed his throat gently, where the his symbol would appear. "What are we?" he asked softly.

Hotohori tensed. Hadn't he been thinking of the answer to that question earlier? And hadn't he come up with nothing? Because they had never discussed it. Because he still wasn't ready to admit what he was, least of all to the public. "I'm not sure. You're a good friend, Nuriko..."

"A good friend," he repeated quietly. "But nothing more?"

"I... I'm not sure," he replied. "When we... We always seemed to end up together, but we never discussed what it was after."

"It's been five years," Nuriko stated flatly. "I've not dated anyone else in five years. I thought you would get the picture by now. I'm serious about you. I've loved you since Konan. I've loved you since I first met you."

"I... don't know what to tell you. I'm not sure of my feelings right now."

"I can't wait for you forever, Saihitei. I love you, but I won't go without love for the rest of my life," he murmured and stood up. "Good night, Heika."

Hotohori laid down, alone and miserable, and did not sleep.

Miaka's shrieked obscenity was cut short as they fell through the misty gate. Nakago twisted their bodies so that his was beneath hers so she wouldn't be hurt by the fall.

"We're not stopping! WHY AREN'T WE STOPPING!!!" Miaka shrieked again, looking wildly around. Nakago's blue eyes slid from side to side, surveying the area. It seemed that the gates corresponded geographically in some way, because they were falling over an enormous waterfall. Nakago expelled a burst of chi to slow their descent, but they were going too fast to really stop. They crashed into the deep pool at the bottom of the falls, Nakago's strong body shielding his petite wife.

Miaka came up shrieking and swinging her arms around. She was not a very good swimmer, and really wasn't too fond of heights at that. "Nakago, I'm going to kill you so dead!!!" she paddled around to find him and didn't see him. "Nakago?"

Miaka heard the water whoosh around the man's body as he surfaced, lying flat on his back. She doggy paddled over to him worried. His eyes were closed and he was quickly sinking again. It seemed that the jolt had stunned him. His lungs were filled with water and his eyes were twitching and rolling. Miaka cursed and used her chi to propel them forward in the water since she couldn't have possibly pulled him by her own muscles. She dragged him up on the shore and put her lips to his, forcing air into his lungs and compressing his chest a few times. She breathed again and he began to cough, turning to the side to cough the water out of his lungs.

"You idiot, you could have killed us both," Miaka hugged him tightly, trying not to cry. "You are such a moron."

"There was hardly another choice," he defended, laying there for a moment longer to gain his bearings before pushing himself up. "And we're both alive, it seems. Though where we are is anyone's guess..."

Miaka looked around. It looked a little bit like Hokkaido, but was overgrown with forest and lakes. She wasn't sure if they were now in the book or not. "Do you recognize it as any place within the ShiJinTenshiSho?"

His eyes scanned the wooded area. "I am unsure," he admitted, standing and helping her to her feet.

"Are you sure you're okay? We can rest for a minute. You inhaled a lot of water..."

"Best to get my breath moving to get the remaining droplets out," he shrugged and started walking.

They pushed through the dense forest. Nakago felt something about this area resonate with him as they walked past the lake. He looked it over, feeling vaguely unnerved about the familiarity. He stopped, turning and looking over the lake. The fog drifted slowly over it.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, looking at him. Miaka lifted her hand and brushed the wet locks away from his ear. "It's... it's glowing."

Nakago looked startled and lifted her hair slightly. The Seiran jewels, which Nakago had been gifted by the lake near his tribe's homeland, were pulsing faintly. Yui had given him the jewel before the wedding day. "Something blue," she had said. Nakago had always worn the other, as a reminder of his parents' love for one another. Now they were glowing together.

"This is the Blue Lake," he said softly.

"What? The lake of the Seiran? Then this is..."

"Hin country," he replied quietly.

"Then this is..." Miaka's voice was cut off as two small Hin children ran past, giggling. They looked up at Nakago in question, and then to Miaka with a little fear. Hin children had always feared those not of their tribe, because in Kutou, the emperor's forces were known to rape and pillage the Hin lands.

"Greetings, old father," one of the children said cautiously.

"Greetings, young son," he replied, kneeling down. He recognized these children. He had played with them growing up a lifetime before.

"What are these strange clothes you wear?" the other asked, standing behind the boy who appeared to be her brother. "They are not of our tribe, but you are."

"I was, long ago," he said to them. "These are the clothes of the place from which I now hail."

"What is your name, old father?" the girl asked. "You remind me of someone."

"Ayuru," he said softly.

"Ayuru? Are you related to the boy Ayuru? And his mother? Are you his father?"

"No, I am not his father. This is my wife," he motioned to Miaka, who bowed and smiled warmly.

"You wed with one who is not Hin?" the boy asked a little accusingly.

"She is Hin in her soul," he replied. "Would you take us to your village? We require rest and food. Our journey has been long and trying."

The boy nodded. "We will take you to the elders. They will offer you a home."

The boy and his sister took off at a jog and the travellers followed. "When is this?" she asked softly, looking around. They had entered a village that bustled with people. Brilliant flashes of blonde lit her periphery. Children, women, even strong men all fair of color and appearance moved through the village. The children played, laughing by the huts. The women worked, carrying water, hanging clothes and scolding children. Most men were out hunting the forest, but those that were present built and hauled and kissed their wives and lovers as they came or went.

A little girl ran before Nakago and he nearly ran into her. "Forgive me, old father," she bowed.

Nakago's pale eyes widened in shock. He stared for a moment. "Taria?"

"Forgive me, but how do you know me? Do you know my father?" she questioned curiously.

Nakago wanted to wrap his arms around her. This girl, she looked to be about twelve years old, ready to blossom into a beautiful young woman any day. She was the beautiful child he had fallen in love with. And this... this was the pleasant, peaceful days before the massacre that would make the Hin naught but a memory.

"You strike me familiar," she said, looking unconcerned about his strange gaze. "Fair days and nights to you, old father."

"Fair days and nights to you, daughter," he repeated automatically, leaning down. Taria kissed his cheek and giggled, running off and waving.

"Nakago," she said softly. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," he replied as he was led through his own city and into the hall of the elders. A fierce feeling of deja vu rushed over him. He had been in this room before, when they had announced they suspected an attack by the Kutou army.

"What is your name?" the elders immediately asked.

"Ayuru, and this is my wife, Miaka," he introduced. "Fair days and nights to you all."

"You are of this tribe?" the man who spoke to them had pale locks dusted with grey and oceanic eyes, much darker than Nakago's. His skin was pale and his face was round and soft.

"I am," he replied. "We are travelling to find our daughter."

"Your daughter? What has been done with her?" the man asked.

"She has been taken by dark forces, Tenkou's forces."

"The dark one, with whom we commune to appease?" murmurs broke out among them. "Why has she been taken?"

"She is daughter of Seiran, pure and holy. We do not know where she has been taken. We do not ask your assistance in our search, but hope for your hospitality," Nakago explained to the men of the council.

"Let us deliberate, step out."

Miaka and Nakago went outside. Nakago sat down hard on the ground. "This is soon before we were attacked."

"How soon?" her voice quivered.

"Days. Less than a week. I'm not sure beyond that."

"That girl... the one who kissed you in greeting..." she ventured.

"Taria," he told her. "The girl I loved, the girl who died at the emperor's hand. I could stop this. I could warn them now, tell them to leave. I would never have become what I was. I would never have killed so many. I would never have hurt you."

"And you would never have met me. We would not have come together as enemies, and then as friends. This has already happened, Nakago. All of this, I think, even us being here has already happened. And it happened for a reason. You can't change destiny, Nakago, no matter how much you want to change the past."

"I know."

"What you lived through has made you into the man you are; the man I love."

He nodded, standing up. He wrapped his arms around his young wife, holding her tightly. He would suffer again, for her, for their daughter. He would not erase those scars on his heart which made him who he was, and made her love him. It was this way for a reason.

They were ushered back inside and offered a place to stay. "There have been some threats of movement by the Kutou army. We may have to evacuate quickly, so bear that in mind during your stay. We have put you near the edge of the village farthest from Kutou camps so that you may escape if you must. We will help in any way we can."

"Thank you for your kindness," Miaka spoke, her voice strong and sure.

They were led out and into the village toward their lodging.

Nakago sat down in their hut. The old woman they were staying with was the village healer, whom he had visited on more than one occasion due to scrapes and bumps and bruises. It was strange; it was confusing. He felt tenderized. The last few days had been emotional and he was not used to dealing with strong emotions. For years he pushed them away, and then along came Miaka, cracking him open and forcing him to face the day to day emotions that came to him. He began to open, slowly, with her gentle hand's guidance. Now he was open and without his old defenses, and he was facing emotions the extent of which he hadn't dealt with, well, ever, really. Not since his childhood in the book.

The old woman had allowed them to settle and left them to rest. Miaka laid down on the bed and patted it, inviting him to join her.

"You look tired," she said to him, pulling him by the waist onto the bed. She waited until he gave in and sat and then pulled his shirt off. She leaned against his smooth, bare back, kissing his shoulders lightly, wrapping her arms around him.

"I know this is hard, seeing these ghosts, especially for a human ice block like you that hates to show emotions," she teased him. Her hands, slim and strong, moved to his broad shoulders and massaged the tense muscles there. "Do you want to leave tomorrow?"

"No," he said a little too quickly. "But we should locate the nearest gate to get us back to the correct time. I think I have discovered how to tell which will move us through time. They have a distinct twist in the emptiness."

"Do you want to see your mother?" she asked, knowing that he was avoiding the subject.

He was silent for a long time and then finally replied. "Yes."

"We'll find her tomorrow."

"We should avoid running into my past self, though. It might create a paradox if either of us realizes who the other is, especially if my past self realizes I'm his future self."

He turned and kissed his wife's soft lips. He hated this vulnerable feeling, but Miaka was the only one he would even really allow to see it, and he knew that she would comfort him. Her touches, her quiet strength, those things allowed him to feel safe despite the vulnerability her presence seemed to induce. It was a paradox in and of itself. She tore him open and left him vulnerable, but she would never leave him unguarded and would never, ever abuse the power she had over him.

Miaka pulled him down to the bed, facing him on her side, and ran her fingers through his hair, kissing him gently. "I love you. I'm here through this. You're always here for me. Let me be here for you."

"Sentimental fool," he replied, pulling her shirt up and gently massaging her pert little breasts. "If you must use me to feel useful, fine, but I don't need you."

Miaka smiled and invited him to roll on top of her. He needed her, and she needed him. That was why they were so perfect. Each day she became stronger, to be as strong as him, to be able to protect him from his worst enemy; himself. Each day he became more able to feel the things he had stopped feeling. They were yin and yang, a perfect balance.

He kissed her body from her nose to her feet, exploring, tasting the perfect flesh. She held him and looked at his beautiful face, the hard features cast in stone. Their bodies moved together in an ageless dance and they made love to one another in the heat of the late summer afternoon.

Author's notes:

Hey, guys. Sorry for the wait on these. I was taking an extremely heavy semester and didn't have time to scratch my butt, let alone sit down and write. I'm on semester break right now and next semester is going to be much lighter, so I will hopefully actually work on this baby. Please remember to let me know what you think. :)


	8. Chapter 7: Still

Chapter Seven – Still

Nakago walked slowly through the village's main path, nodding courteously at the people as he passed. He slowed as he approached a certain hut near the edge of the village. A woman worked outside of it, hanging her washing and humming to herself. Her long, blonde hair was pulled up with a scarf, her fair brow glistened with dewy perspiration.

"Fair days and nights to you, brother," the woman said to him.

"Fair days and nights," he returned, stopping before her. The woman was how he had remembered her; beautiful to the point of tragedy. The skin of her face was smooth, the lines soft. Her lips were full, her eyes large and expressive. This was his mother.

"How do you fare today, sister?" he asked. "May I help you?"

"I'm finishing now," she smiled kindly. "What is your name, brother?"

"Ayuru," he said without thinking.

"Ayuru!" she exclaimed with laughter. "That is my son's name! What a small world we inhabit!" she laughed with mirth and it lit her face.

"Well, Ayuru, who has my son's name. I am finished here, but you may help me in the side if you wish. I must fold and mop still, before my son and his friend return."

He couldn't say no to his mother, so he nodded and carried the dry, sweet smelling laundry in. He remembered the smell too well. It smelled of wild berries because of the leaves she would grind into the wash.

He set the linens down on the bench table and looked around. The round room, the room filled with the modest decorations of a woman with no husband and a son to raise. He looked toward the place on the floor where she would be raped in a few days' time. If only she knew. He forced himself quiet. He would not destroy this reality by changing events, even if they would benefit him.

"If you would fold these, I will make you something to eat, brother," her musical voice lilted from across the room. She stood over the stove, warming soup for him to enjoy. "There is word that you come from far away with a wife that is not one of ours."

"She is a beauty of Kutou appearance," he admitted, picking up a sheet and folding it.

The woman turned, looking a little startled. She turned, resting her hips against the wooden counter's edge. "Kutou?"

"She is not from Kutou, but her appearance is similar."

"There are some who have great dark beauty," she smiled a little wistfully. "Some are of noble descent."

"Others still are criminals who wish only to rape and pillage," he said harshly before he could stop himself. He slammed the freshly folded sheet against the table.

"You must not judge a whole by it's pieces, instead only try to understand," she snapped.

Mollified, Nakago picked up another linen and began to fold. "Yes, you are right, of course."

"I do fear that they will invade us," she admitted. "But I do believe destiny will prevail."

"It always does."

The two continued to work in silence until they heard the laughter of the children approaching. "I must return to my wife," he said. "Thank you for the soup."

"Come back again. You are lively and remind me of my son. Come for dinner, and bring your wife."

"I think your son would be uncomfortable with that," he said quietly.

"I think I will send him to his friend Taria's for dinner," she said with a gentle laugh. "And then we will all be comfortable, will we not?"

Nakago nodded and took his leave, passing himself and Taria as they came in. The boy stopped and stared at the man for a moment as he passed.

"Do you know him?" the girl asked, looking at her friend and taking his hand. "I greeted him yesterday."

"He feels... blue to me."

Puzzled, Taria shrugged and tugged her friend inside for their meal. Her friend Ayuru had always been acutely aware of things she had paid no heed, and she figured this was one of these things she would just not understand. And that was fine for her. Leave the things of the gods to the gods, she thought. And they ate together.

Nuriko got up the next morning still feeling the sting of the previous night's encounter. He and Hotohori had been lovers for five years. What had started out as a night of drunken fun had turned into a night of passion, which turned into a fairly constant series of trysts amid their friendship. They had discussed, of course, after the first occasion, and concluded that nothing would have happened if there weren't already some feelings. Apparently, Nuriko thought, the feelings were mostly his. They had never discussed what they were after that, and it had never come up. They would joke and rough house, or they would hold hands and be intimate, but always after being together they were friends again, not lovers, not really.

"Fretting will only give you wrinkles," he said to himself, looking at his pale face in the mirror. He knew he was attractive, and that he could probably get just about any man he wanted. The problem was that the one he wanted didn't want him, or so it seemed. "I shouldn't waste my time," he decided, brushing his fingers through his hair.

The lithe man pulled on the clothing Boushin had gotten for him and was about to leave when he heard a soft voice call his name.

"Hotohori?" he asked hopefully.

"No, it's me," Boushin slid the door open, trying to ignore the disappointed look on his face. Hadn't he seen that look so often from the people around him? That look of disappointment when it was him they saw, and not his father.

"Oh, good morning," Nuriko bowed a little and exited the room. "Did you need anything?"

"I thought I'd drop by and bring you and my father to breakfast," the emperor explained.

"I'm not very hungry," he said, lying. He was starving, but he didn't want to face Hotohori right now. "I also thought I would have you both look over some of the information we've gathered about the gangs. I know you were both Suzaku no Seishi... I was hoping you could offer some insight. There's something strange about the goings on here."

"Strange how?" Nuriko's curiosity was piqued.

"Well, I was pretty familiar with the large syndicates in the capital, or so I thought. The one that we've been following for the past few weeks seems to have sprung up literally overnight. It's strange because usually the gangs form in small cells, first a group of friends, then extended friends, families, et cetera. Their crimes start out small and move up over a period of months to years. This group, however... it appeared out of nowhere fully formed, with huge underground networks of members, and large crime rings. They've been systematically breaking into banks and vaults in the city, but only for the last two weeks. It's as if an entire syndicate just got up and moved from one place to the next."

"That's pretty typical behavior, though. Banks and vaults would be a good place to strike. Maybe it was a gang that was run out of another city?" Nuriko offered.

"I thought that too, at first, but they're far too big to be removed without force, and none of the surrounding cities have reported this kind of activity. Also, they're not really stealing from banks and vaults, more like... searching," he explained. "There are murders involved as well, and they get more and more gruesome. The latest... a man's entrails were torn out. He almost looked as if he had exploded."

"That is strange," the younger man mused, looking thoughtful. "I think Hotohori and I should definitely look at the information you have."

The emperor and Nuriko entered the dining room where Hotohori and Houki were chatting comfortably. Houki laughed at something her former husband had said and Nuriko felt his stomach twist. Had he been a convenience or a replacement all along?

"Good morning," Houki said cheerfully. "We were just catching up."

"Those clothes take me back," Nuriko said quietly, looking at Hotohori's simple outfit, which was similar to the one he had worn on their first trip out to look for the other Seishi. They had all set out together, they and Miaka, and Tamahome.

"It feels kind of right," the other Seishi commented just as softly.

Nuriko sat down and Boushin went to the head of the table, pulling out the reports as his food appeared before him, brought by numerous swift and silent servants. "Here's what's happening," the emperor pulled out the reports and handed them to Hotohori. They basically detailed the same things he had told Nuriko. The syndicate had sprung up overnight and with it came odd strings of crimes.

"It's obvious they're looking for something," Hotohori decided, setting down the reports and handing them over to Nuriko. "Have you been in touch with any of the other empires? If there has been no word of activity of this organization in this country, yet they are so well organized, it would seem that they must have come from one of the other empires."

Boushin made a soft sound of comprehension. He hadn't thought of that. "I will send couriers out at once to bring back word from Hokkan, Sairo, and Kutou."

"Will they cooperate?" Nuriko questioned. When they had last been here none of the countries were on excellent terms, least of all Kutou.

"The people of Kutou who remember times before the latest emperor still feel resentment to Konan for their defeat, but the current emperor holds nothing against us," the emperor answered, taking the papers back from Nuriko and waving a servant over to speak. "Send three couriers to the empires of Sairo, Kutou, and Hokkan."

"That will not be necessary, highness," one of the emperor's advisors rushed into the room. "Forgive my intrusion, but the emperor of Kutou has traveled to see you."

Boushin stood quickly and followed the advisor. Houki and the former Seishi were behind him in a hurry. Hotohori looked quite surprised and Nuriko could easily understand why. During his time as emperor, Kutou had been on horrible terms with Konan, and it was completely unprecedented to have a direct audience with the emperor of Kutou, ever. As far as he knew, it had never happened that the emperor had traveled from his home land, let alone to their rival country. Boushin looked equally shocked as they entered the throne room.

The emperor took his seat as a large party, escorted by many Konan guards, entered the room. The emperor of Kutou was flanked by his own guards on all sides, which were surrounded by Konan guards.

"The emperor speaks," a light, tenor voice spoke. The guards immediately surrounding the emperor knelt. Boushin's guards split and moved before his throne, forming a fierce walkway of spears and alert faces.

Boushin's guests were equally surprised. On the very few occasions that Nakago had mentioned Kutou's emperor, he had made it clear that he was a detestable, grotesque man who looked more like an ape than a person. The person before them was slight of build and fair of face. His skin and hair were dark like that of the typical Kutou, but his eyes were unusual, appearing to be the color of falling rain on a dark day. Grey, like storm clouds.

"I am Fe Xansho, emperor of Kutou," he introduced formally, bowing. When he straightened his eyes were all business.

"You are the emperor of Kutou?" Boushin questioned, amazed. "You are but a boy."

Xansho frowned slightly. "I'm not a boy," he said almost petulantly. He looked about fourteen, but if he remembered correctly, he was probably closer to nineteen or twenty. "I have come to warn your country of peril."

"Why?" Nuriko couldn't stop himself. Boushin looked shocked. Hotohori sighed deeply.

The young emperor laughed. "Because I believe that if your country falls, we will all fall. I have information regarding the syndicate known as Kutenshi. If you are interested."

"This reeks of Miaka, doesn't it?" Nuriko said under his breath to Hotohori, who nodded.

"Miaka? Do you speak of the girl who came to Kutou with Seiryuu no Seishi Nakago?" the young emperor asked suddenly. "You know her?"

"She is our miko," Hotohori answered. "How do you know her?"

Xansho's face brightened again and he smiled. "Shall we speak in a less formal setting?"

Boushin nodded in agreement and stood to lead the emperor to his private chambers. Hotohori and Nuriko followed. The young emperor of Kutou motioned two, and only two, of his guards to follow, and the men and Houki disappeared into the antechamber.

Nakago left his former home and headed toward where he felt Miaka's chi. She was broadcasting her location fairly obviously, but knowing her it was not intentional. He found her running around playing with a huge gaggle of children. Sighing, he pulled her aside.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Playing," she smiled that sad smile to hide her pain. "It's like a field of little Nakagos! Except cute. And not evil."

He looked at the expectant blue eyed stares directed at him. "Is this your husband, Miaka-san? He looks like my daddy," one girl said.

"Yes, this is... Ayuru," she introduced. "He's Hin just like all of you!"

"Why are you married to him? You're not Hin," one boy pointed out, looking rather accomplished at having observed something like that.

"Oh, he told me to," she waved her hand dismissively. "Now who wants to chase Auntie Miaka again?!"

"We've been invited to dinner," Nakago said quietly. "By my mother."

"You saw your mother?" she stopped mid step and turned around. "Did you see, er, you?"

"In passing," he admitted. "I had intended to leave sooner, but she had laundry, and offered me a snack..."

Miaka laughed softly. Leave it to a good boy to be unable to say no to his mother. Her face darkened slightly. "You didn't mention who you are, did you?"

Nakago shook his head. He had wanted to. Oh! How he'd wanted to tell her he was her son and he knew what was going to happen, to take the boy and Taria, to leave the village and be safe, to find his father and tell him to stop this massacre. But he didn't. He couldn't. He didn't know what would happen if he did such a thing, but he knew it was foolish.

"Aunt Miaka has to go for a while. I'll come back to play tomorrow, okay?" she waved to the children who awed in disappointment and followed Nakago through the village and into the wilderness. "I don't suppose you found a way out of here?"

He shook his head. He had gotten quite distracted by being back in this place. He never thought he would see these people or places again. He hadn't realized how much he had missed it until he had stepped back through the strange time warp and seen it all again. Just the smells of the fires cooking the midday meal, the feel of the gritty dust on his skin, it brought back memories, both good and bad. At this point, more good than bad, but he knew what was coming.

They walked to the Blue Lake and stood there. Nakago reached out his senses. The gate that they had fallen through, down the falls and into the lake, had closed, and even if it hadn't, it would probably only lead back to where they did not want to be. He scanned the area for that odd, empty chi feeling. There were a few areas of odd instability, but no areas like a chi black hole in the vicinity.

"I don't sense any gates nearby. There may by others beyond my range of power, though. We should check near the less stable areas," he led her away from the water and closer to the strange areas of twisted chi. Some of them, he could tell, oozed demonic power. He knew that these were gates the demons had created, gates that had left tiny tears in the fabric of time and space. There were others that opened and closed quickly, but there was no way to tell where any of them went. The only real option would be to take a closer look, but he wouldn't risk Miaka's safety by doing it with her in tow.

They turned and headed back toward the village. "Tomorrow I will investigate some of the gates. I won't go through," he said at the first sign of protest. "I will simply take a look and see what's on the other side. We might not be able to get back to our where, but hopefully we can get back to our when."

Miaka nodded reluctantly, but knew that he had set his mind and would never let her tag along if he thought it might be dangerous. He would rather her be in a familiar place, where she knew people and could get away if she needed to. It was dangerous to leave her alone in warring Kutou, but worse to take her into unknown dangers. At least here she would know what to expect.

"It's weird being in a village of people who look just like you," Miaka said suddenly, looking up at her Hin husband. "Especially the children. They all look... so much like Kaena."

"We will find her. I won't rest until we find her."

"And if we don't?" Miaka asked softly.

"We will find her," he said again.

"Heaven help whoever took her," the woman replied, taking his hand.

He nodded grimly and stopped walking. Miaka paused mid step and nearly went flying head over heels as she tripped on her own feet, but her rapid descent was curtailed by the strong man beside her. He caught her before she knew what was happening, lifting her small form and beginning to walk again.

"What are you doing?" she demanded. "I may be clumsy, but I'm not incapable of walking on my own power."

Nakago ignored her angry demands to be released and carried her back into the village and to his mother's humble hut. It was nearly time for the evening meal. He hardly realized it, but they had been out searching for a gateway for hours. He hadn't realized the time until Miaka had started looking pale, as she usually did when she was without food for a few hours.

The blonde set her down as they neared the hut, letting her walk but holding onto her so she didn't fall again. She got markedly more clumsy when she was in need of nourishment, he had noticed, and he didn't want her getting uselessly injured. He had a feeling they would be getting injured plenty in the battle to come.

They approached just as Ayuru and Taria ran past and toward the girl's home. How odd, Nakago thought, watching himself running down the road with his friend. He remembered going to eat with her family on this night, but why would he go anywhere if his mother didn't have a guest? He didn't think he remembered such a small detail as meeting yet another blonde haired, blue eyed Hin from his past life, but perhaps, he thought, this had already happened.

Curious and eager to sit down with his mother again, Nakago entered the hut in the traditional way, announcing his presence and introducing his wife. The woman, who looked almost the same age as Miaka, smiled warmly at her and welcomed them inside, encouraging them to sit.

"Can I help with anything?" the woman asked her husband's mother, feeling a little intimidated. It was silly, since the woman wouldn't know she was Nakago's wife and lover, but she felt somewhat like she did meeting his crazy family before the wedding, which was nervous and apprehensive (to say the least).

"No, sister, it is nearly finished," she carried a large pot of food over to the table and then returned to the counter, picking up a large, clay jar of water and setting it on the table. Nakago looked at the water jar. He remembered breaking that the next day. He had been so upset he had run out to the Blue Lake to cry. They couldn't afford to replace it, not that it would matter in the days and years to come.

"Come, let us eat," the woman said graciously, taking the large clay bowls from the table and dipping them into the pot, setting the food before each of them, and then herself. Miaka looked at the food in confusion. There was no silverware. She watched Nakago who simply put his hand into the food and began to eat it with his fingers. The beautiful Hin woman did likewise, so Miaka shrugged and followed suit. It wouldn't be the first time, she thought with a smile.

They spoke quietly of affairs with Kutou. Miaka could tell that Nakago was trying to hint at it in a very veiled way. He wouldn't say it, but he couldn't bring himself not to try to warn his mother of the danger. Miaka simply listened. She could tell that the woman understood the dangers of Kutou, but it was also obvious that she already knew something of the situation. Probably even things Nakago didn't find out until much later. Miaka could tell that this woman knew she had a bond to this man, even if she was unsure how. She treated him warmly, but firmly, the same way she treated her young son. She seemed very kind and gentle. She found it easy to understand how Nakago could have been so damaged by the death of this woman. She was a beautiful person, in body and spirit, and if her son was anything like this gentle, gracious woman, it would be very easy to hurt that gentle spirit and twist it. She started to cry and Nakago looked up, startled.

"Is this topic upsetting to you?" the blonde woman asked, concerned, touching her hand and offering her a scarf to wipe her eyes.

"No, I was just thinking and upset myself," she admitted, wiping her eyes and smiling. "It's silly. I'm fine."

"Perhaps we should retire for the evening," the woman suggested.

Miaka looked to Nakago, who nodded and stood up. The russet haired woman stood as well and followed their host to the door. "Thank you for your hospitality," Miaka hugged her. "It was a very nice meal."

The woman smiled and nodded, embracing the other woman. She reached out for Nakago's hand and touched it. Suddenly something jolted through her. She looked at the man with strange eyes for a moment. "Are you sure we're not related?" she questioned.

Nakago stood silently, unable to respond. He couldn't really lie to his mother. Just then, however, Ayuru came running up and stopped between the two guests. The Hin woman's eyes slid from the man to her son standing beside him, and her eyes widened.

"Your name," she said softly, looking between the two versions. Nakago refrained, with great difficulty, from looking down at himself. "Your name is the same because... But that is impossible."

"We must go," Nakago pulled his hand away, as much as it pained him to break the contact, and led Miaka away, not looking back.

She stood in front of the hut, staring at him as he disappeared down the road. "You can't be my son," she murmured. "Such pain and darkness I see in you..."

"Mother, who was that man?" Ayuru asked curiously, looking at his mother. "He seems familiar. He makes my head hurt a little."

"He's family," she said softly, ushering him inside. She put the thoughts away to think of them later.


	9. Chapter 8: Paradox

Chapter Eight – Paradox

Nakago went out with Miaka as far as the lake the next morning, and left her there. He refused to let her come with, and resentful as she was, she agreed. When Nakago was stubborn, it was stupid to argue, at least if she had nothing to lose. She knew he would be fine without her, and she felt like being alone to think anyway.

Stripping off her clothes in front of the lake, the woman relished in the quiet. She loved Tokyo, but there was nothing like being out in the middle of nowhere for silence. Granted, the only times she had really been in the book, she had been in grave peril, but the few quiet swims and walks she had enjoyed had been memories to cherish. Her body, petite and slim, slipped swiftly into the water. She drew a soft breath. There was something powerful about this lake. She could feel it, almost as if it were conscious and breathing, feeling her chi and welcoming it as something friendly. She kicked off and paddled around a few feet from the shore.

It had been several days since Kaena disappeared. She knew her daughter was alive. Part of her, the part that was doubtful and scared, feared for her, but the other part knew that whatever she was needed for, she was needed alive, and as far as she could tell, whatever they were doing, not all the pieces were in place. If they were, the world would have already come apart, times and places colliding and disappearing. As far as she could tell, time was unaltered despite the gates. Despite knowing her daughter was alive, she feared for her overall safety and mental health, and she missed her! The beautiful child was unlike any other child she'd ever met, not only because she was her only daughter, but because she was unusual, because she was powerful. She had known since her little soul began to grow within her that she had a quiet strength about her, something that was fierce, but kind. She feared what that fierce power would become if it was twisted. But everything aside, all the dreadful powers and evil, the emotion she most felt was longing. She wanted to hold her child, the fruit of her soul. She wanted to speak to that oddly perceptive girl, to touch her, to look at her.

Miaka felt her eyes begin to tear and thought she was going to cry until she heard somebody else beat her to it. She sunk in the water, not wanting to be seen, and waded over to investigate the source of the sound. She took a soft breath when she saw who it was.

"Nakago," she sighed and watched him for a moment. He was sitting there, looking very much like her very own daughter, his hair a little too long for a boy, his eyes a little too large and round. He truly was a breathtaking child.

"Ayuru?" she asked softly, keeping herself hidden in the water.

The boy looked up, tears still on his face. She had a brief flash of a memory that wasn't hers. She pictured this beautiful child in the bed of the emperor, crying like this, crying like his soul was bleeding and his heart was breaking. She shook the image because it made her want to cry.

"Who are you?" he asked, wiping his eyes. He sat on the bank, his blue eyes swimming with tears, his knees tucked to his body.

"I'm a friend of your mother's," she responded. "Why are you crying?"

"Were you at my hut last night?" the boy questioned.

She nodded. "With my husband." It pained her to think that her husband had been this small boy, crying helplessly. She felt that this is something that had happened, something he had forgotten long ago. She knew that there were moments in time that were a pivot, a place where things change, and this, she believed, was one of them. A time to help him, to give him strength for the terrifying journey before him. Destiny. "Did something bad happen?"

The child that would be her husband nodded woefully, his poor face looking distressed. "I broke mother's water pot. We can't afford to buy another."

"Is that all?" she asked, smiling gently, coming a little closer and then stopping. Husband to be or not, she was not about the corrupt this little boy by showing him her breasts. "That's not so bad."

"You don't understand," his soft, gentle voice protested. "Mother... she doesn't have a husband. I can't work yet to earn money. We only have enough money by what she earns selling her weaving to live. We can't buy another, how will she carry water to cook? It's all my fault. If I hadn't been being stupid..."

"What happened?" she questioned. "Hand me my clothes while you tell me," she told him.

Obediently, he went to the small pile of her clothes and handed them to her. She carried them behind a large bush.

"I'm listening," she said, pulling on her bra and shirt, stepping further out of the water to put on her underwear.

"I was telling her..." he frowned. "I was telling her about your husband. He feels strange to me. I can't place it. I'm not sure... I don't know. He feels blue to me. I get a headache when he's around."

"He's a pretty powerful guy. You probably just feel his chi," she responded, trying to cover.

He made a thoughtful sound of understanding. "I was excited because there's something familiar about him, like maybe... maybe he's my father? So I jumped up to sit on her counter, and when I did..."

"It fell," she said, emerging from the bush clothed, if wet. She sat down next to him. "Sometimes things happen, Ayuru-kun, and we don't know why."

"What could be the reason for this? Aren't our lives hard enough?"

"Bad things happen to teach us things," she explained. "Years ago, when I was only a few years older than you are now, I met a boy that I loved."

"Your husband?" he asked softly.

She shook her head. "No, this was a different boy. He was brash and beautiful. He was so sweet and loved me, and I loved him. We had adventures, and hard times, and good times. I thought we would be together forever."

"What happened?" he asked, wide eyed.

"He died," she said softly. The irony of telling the boy who would torture the very man of which she spoke was too great and she laughed sadly. "He was murdered, by somebody we both knew. She killed him because of jealousy."

"I'm sorry," he looked at his feet, looking very sad for her.

She took his hand and squeezed it gently. "He died, but after he died, I realized that my husband, who had been there all along, was the man for me. I still love him. I still miss him. But because of it, I came to love the one who who was intended for me. Even though terrible things happen, things that hurt us, things that make us want to die, Ayuru. Even though those things happen, we must go on, because there is a purpose in everything."

Ayuru looked up at her, his pale eyes gleaming with a solemnity so much like what she so often saw in Nakago's eyes that it frightened her. "I understand."

"I'm glad," Miaka told him, smiling. "Always remember what I've told you. Now, let's go back to your mother."

"What if she hates me?"

"Your mother would never hate you. I'm sure she will forgive you if you apologize. Let's go talk to her. You shouldn't spend your time upset for no reason."

Ayuru nodded and the two headed toward the town.

Nakago walked toward the gate he had sensed earlier. He'd left Miaka over by the lake, knowing she would run into him and give him encouraging words. He had forgotten until late last night when the memory had suddenly returned. She had told him to never give up, that everything happened for a reason. He would have died in Kutou if it hadn't been for her. Maybe she shouldn't have said those things to him. Maybe she wouldn't have had to suffer so much. But this had already happened, so there was no use in changing things now. It was disconcerting, to say the least, to have a memory of his wife before he knew her. He remembered another occasion where he had met her, and knew that sometime soon they would be in the past of her world. The paradox of what was happening was incredible. She as an adult had talked to him as a child, and then he had met her when she was barely past childhood, and he an adult. She had given him strength, and he had given her pain. It was cruel, but at the same time, it made what she'd said all the more true. Everything happened for a reason, even this.

He approached the gate. He could feel the demonic reek of it, and was loathe to enter it, but knew he had to at least cross in to see where it led. He wouldn't have to take more than a step in to figure whether it was the right place, so it really wasn't all that dangerous. On the other hand, if the gateway was being held open by demons, or if it was simply a rip caused by one such forced opening, it could close at any time.

"Ayuru!" he heard from behind and turned around.

"Mother?" he said quietly. "Nikki-san," he said to his mother. "What are you doing here?"

"I followed my son to the Lake, but I saw you and followed. Your wife was there, so I thought you... he would be all right."

"You know," he realized.

She reached forward, touching his face. He allowed her to touch him, closing his eyes, relishing in the feeling of her soft hands. She had looked at him that way when he was a child. She said she was looking for his father in his face, but she never saw it. "I see it now. I see your father."

"How did you know?" he asked, opening his pale eyes and examining her carefully. He should have been more cautious. His mother was very intelligent. That was probably why he was so brilliant, he thought. His father had also been quite the genius.

"When you stood together I could feel it. I know this aura. I have known it since conception, I have felt that power of Seiryuu grow since birth. This aura, yours, it's darker, it's ancient now, and wise, but very sad. Why?"

"I can't tell you," he took her hands and pulled them gently away from his face.

"How are you here?" she questioned. "How is this possible?"

"I am not the son you know. I have died from this world long ago, and been reborn in another. My wife, she traveled here as the Suzaku no Miko, to the future of this world."

"She is the Suzaku no Miko? But... the daughter?" she knew the legend well enough to understand the problem with his story, so he told her what he could. He told her of their rivalry, and of his death, though he omitted as many details as possible. He told her about how they had met again after his rebirth, how he had had a vision of her telling him to do what he knew was right, how his wife's love had died, how they had come together. She laughed, and she cried. He explained what had happened with his daughter, and about the gates, the destruction of their world. "This won't happen for about thirty-five years in this world, but the gate brought us here."

"It wasn't an accident," she concluded. "This all happened for a reason. But I don't understand why you were her rival. Why did you seek to destroy Suzaku?"

"I became the Shogun of the Kutou army," he admitted.

"Like your father. Did you leave us to find him?" she asked softly. "Did he train you?"

"I can't tell you that. It might change... it might change the future that is, it might create a dangerous paradox. I can't tell you because you would try to change it."

"Ayuru," she said firmly. "I am your mother and I deserve to know what became of you. What brought so much of your father to your face?"

"It's not something you want to hear," he argued, feeling his will bend. He had never been able to resist his mother's urgings and he probably never would, but this was for the future. "It is a sad story."

"Please."

Nakago cracked. He looked into those eyes that were like a mirror to his. He saw fear in them. She feared for him. She feared what she couldn't fathom.

"I would rather know than not. I would rather know than jump at shadows."

So he told her. "What I tell you... you cannot change. Promise me you will continue to live as if I had never told you." When she agreed, he proceeded. "Kutou will attack in a few days' time. They will raid our village and kill everybody. They come to our hut, and soldiers will..." he trailed off, looking into her eyes. Horror was there, but unbelievable strength. "They will rape you, with me in the room. I am unable to handle this, and my power emerges. I kill the men, and you."

"I would rather die by the hand of my son than the sword of a stranger," she said, though her voice shook. "What happens to you?"

"They will take me and Taria to the palace. They kill her before me to draw out my power again. I don't think you want to hear the rest."

She cried softly at the thought of that beautiful little girl dying a horrible death, but she urged him on. She wanted to know where the shadows came from.

"The emperor kept me as his pet," he said.

"I don't understand," she looked puzzled and worried.

"He used... he will use me... as if I were of his harem. He will do so for five years, until I am too old for his taste. Because of what he did, I swore to the heavens to become strong, to summon Seiryuu and get revenge. Suzaku was simply another obstacle."

His mother was weeping openly now. She fell against him, holding him and sobbing, not to him, but for him. She held him and mourned as only a mother can mourn. It was painful to listen to his mother mourn for him in such a way, but it also comforted him. She was giving him the mother's comfort that he had never had. It felt good to have her hold him. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. She was so small against him now. So many times she had comforted him, he had sat in her lap and curled against her, and now his arms wrapped around her easily. Her body was slim and soft, and his was broad, tall, and strong. He was grown and didn't need this comfort now, but he still craved it.

"I will not run from destiny," she said to him finally, pulling away, still touching his smooth face. "What you will become in this life is sad, but what you have become now, it is a beautiful thing. A man I can be proud of. To run from destiny is foolish. I will continue, and I will not tell... my son... of this. But I will cherish this time with him. With you. Thank you for telling me. I will die knowing you will set all things right." She was silent for a few minutes, standing against her grown son and holding him. "This distortion," she said, turning her attention to the large rift a few feet ahead of them. "This is one of these gates?"

He nodded. "I was going to see where it led."

"Let me come with," she said to him, looking up at his face.

He first looked surprised and then baleful. "I sent Miaka to the lake because I didn't want to endanger her."

"We have noticed the distortions, but we thought of them as traps by demons, so we avoided them. We sensed the evil. There is one above the Blue Lake, as well. I have been curious. Now that I know what it is, I am tempted to enter. Better to enter with you."

Nakago could have sworn he saw a sly smile flit across her features, and that really didn't surprise him as much as it should have. He had to have gotten his cunning from somewhere. He assumed it was his father, but it was very possible that his mother would have been far more cunning, given the opportunity. Which, it seemed, she had now been given. She was implying that she would enter alone if he didn't allow her to accompany him, which she knew he would never allow. Checkmate. Sly woman. He couldn't help being proud. "Fine, but we are not exploring. I planned to step through to assess if it was the correct time, nothing more."

She smiled triumphantly and took his hand, urging him forward like a child dragging her mother to an exciting place. He followed and the two stepped through the gate together.

Boushin explained to Xansho all he knew about goings on within the city, and Xansho confirmed that this was the same syndicate that had been in Kutou a few weeks before. They had raided every treasury and bank in the country, including the royal treasury. Xansho had come to warn them and exchange information regarding the group. It was obvious that they were searching, not simply stealing, however, the search had been relatively non-violent in Kutou, and according to Boushin it had gotten increasingly violent in Konan. He suspected that they were getting more desperate to find whatever they were looking for and were tired of being careful not to leave too much evidence of their visits.

"Do you have any idea what they're looking for?" Boushin asked.

"An artifact of some kind, and this is only speculation, but they began their search in the temple of Seiryuu, at the shrine where some before had summoned Tenkou. I'm unsure if that is significant, but it could be related."

"That's possible," Boushin conceded.

"It could be related to the disorder of this world," Hotohori suggested. "Perhaps we should consult Taiitsukun. Do you still have the scroll of Suzaku?"

The emperor nodded. "Guard, go to my chambers and bring me the scroll of Suzaku."

"I'll get it," Hotohori stood. "I know my way around quite well."

"Are you sure? Why trouble yourself?" Boushin looked puzzled.

"I have an idea to consider and need quiet," he said serenely. "Is it where I left it?"

Boushin nodded and allowed Hotohori to take his leave.

The former emperor left the room and took a turn down the hall and towards his old chambers. He was a little excited about the prospect of entering that room again. It had been a long time. Truthfully, it wasn't so much to think about the current Konan issues as to contemplate Nuriko's behavior.

Hotohori entered his old chambers and looked around. He went to the desk and opened the hidden drawer, pulling out the scroll. It glowed enticingly in his hands, recognizing his power, and then it began to pulse steadily, becoming brighter and brighter, as if flashing a warning. He felt a tingle shoot up his spine. He needed to get back to Nuriko and he didn't know why.

Suddenly, there was a loud noise behind him, like fabric tearing. He whirred around and saw a giant rip like a tear in the very walls of time and space; a black, jagged hole from ceiling to floor. He stared at it and before he could react, demons poured from it. His power flared, but they overwhelmed him, pulling him with sharp claws into the tear.

In the emperor's private chambers, the dark hole closed with the sound of a zipper and the room was again undisturbed.


	10. Chapter 9: Shift

Chapter Nine – Shift

When Hotohori didn't return right away, Nuriko went to find him. When he wasn't in Boushin's chambers, the guards were sent to find him. By the end of the day, the palace was in a panic. Hotohori was not panicked, but he was certainly confused. It occurred to him as he blacked out the first time that they probably thought he was Boushin.

The former emperor woke up a bit later in a dungeon, but he had no idea where the dungeon was. He tried to sit up and found himself bound and chained to the floor.

"Just my luck," he said sourly to himself.

"I wouldn't try to move, if I were you, your highness," a low voice sneered from somewhere nearby. "Those chains are pretty tight around your neck."

"I noticed," he replied, giving up and staying on the floor. There was not a lot of point to struggling into unconsciousness, and that was about all he could do in the awkward position. "Who are you? Why am I here?"

"Who I am is unimportant. Why you're here is a different matter," the voice replied, stepping closer. The person before him was a man unlike any he had seen before. His body was slim and lean, his appearance fairly average, but his eyes were icy and distant, like somebody was speaking through him, almost. But not... somehow, it was just wrong. Hotohori summoned his chi. It felt odd to have that power flowing through him again, but he reached out to touch the man. There was nothing.

It wasn't evil, and it wasn't dark, it was just nothing. It was like the man before him was a living, breathing puppet. "What are you?"

"I wouldn't try to sense, if I were you. You could reach for an eternity and never touch your chi to mine. Mine is a wellspring; a great consciousness."

"You've possessed that man," he realized.

"No, no, no, how simple you creatures are. No, I devoured him, or rather we. But we refer to ourselves in the singular because it is so confusing to you simple minded mortals. We are Evil. Not a being, but a force. We're tired of being contained in the hells, so we have decided to break free."

"Why can I not feel your chi?" he asked.

"Because this," the odd man touched his body emphatically. "This is just a shell, almost like a drawing on a wall. It's flat, nothing here. I control this body from the hells. I know what you're thinking, I said we've decided to break free. Well, we're not free just yet."

"I don't understand what you are," Hotohori tried not to look into the being's eyes, but he was drawn like a moth to a lantern. It caused him to chill. When the man, neigh, the creature touched him, he jumped like he'd been shocked. It untied his hands and allowed him to sit up.

The being knelt beside him, stroking his hair. "Poor mortal. You think in such one dimensional terms. A human, a mortal, has a soul. It is individual, and though it may pass through one life into another, the soul remains intact. Think of it," It said, taking the man's hand and kissing his finger tip. "Like a fingerprint. Completely unique and layered deep into the skin. What we are is what you refer to as the yin. Evil. The dark forces. We are one and we are many. Always connected, always separate."

"You killed the soul?" he asked shakily, looking around for an escape. He didn't see a door.

"No, silly human," the thing tossed Its head back and laughed. It was a terrible sound, almost like a shriek. Laughter was a sound of joy, and evil held no joy, so it was unnatural. The only way to describe it was wretchedly backwards. "No, to die is to release the soul from the body, to send it on its merry way into its next life, or into the afterlife, if its time is done. No, what I have done is devoured it. The soul does not exist in any capacity now, as if it had never existed at all."

Hotohori shuddered as a chill ran up his spine. This thing, things, whatever it/they was/were. They didn't kill, they obliterated. "Why have you brought me here?"

"We need to gain access to the treasuries of this city. You are our ransom, highness."

Hotohori looked puzzled. It had to be obvious to this creature that was nothing more than a spirit that he was not who they were looking for. But perhaps this creature couldn't sense his power of Suzaku, only his energy. That could be an advantage. "What are you looking for?"

"If I told you that, I'd have to kill you," It laughed that hideous shrieking wail again. "Or rather, devour you. Can't have your soul reporting to Taiitsukun, or that troublesome priest."

Hotohori fell silent until It touched him. He shook violently, trying with futile effort to escape the twisted touch. It was like being touched by death. It made his flesh crawl and brought tears to his eyes. It was so utterly wrong that it made his soul hurt. "Please don't touch me," he said softly, trying to move away from that hideous sensation.

"You're so sheltered, you creature of the light. You've never seen true evil. You've seen the petty wrong doings of mortals, the wars, the murders, the rapes, the thefts. Those things are nothing. They mean nothing to us."

"Murder is not insignificant, not to those left behind. Rape is not insignificant, not to the victim," he spat angrily, his golden eyes narrowed. "War is not a small matter!"

"Don't you see?!" he laughed, grabbing the man's face. "You are so blinded by your mortality. We are the subtle force that causes those insignificant crimes. We influence the soft of mind, we bring out that ambition. We are the force that tells a mother to drown her child. We are the force that tells a man to rape a girl. Those things you see in your world, they are only the evidence of our vague presence in the world. Such things wound a soul, but it is reborn again. A murdered soul may forget its previous life, but it is still there, it still exists. In the grand scheme such things matter not. Our presence in your world is barely felt. You cannot fathom what we truly are. Feel this," he grinned terribly, bringing his face to the man's. He struggled, a sudden self-preservation kicking in, but the animated shell's lips touched Hotohori's. It pulled his breath from his mouth, and breathed something so dark and awful into him that he screamed. It was a thousand deaths, ten thousand heinous acts, a million rapes of body and soul. It was pain, it was rage, it was everything evil in the world that he had never fathomed, and somehow, it was more. Hotohori shrieked and thrashed, and then he fell into darkness as his mind broke.

Nakago and Nikki stepped through the gate. Nakago looked around at the surroundings. It vaguely remembered fields in Kutou, but he couldn't tell for sure.

"Is this where you wanted to be?" the woman asked, looking around.

"I am unsure," he replied. "I need to look around. You should go back."

"A lady without escort in the woods? I think not," she smirked and he could see how infuriating his smirk must be to Miaka.

"Fine, but we'll only go as far as the nearest town. That should determine exactly when and where we are," he began to walk.

His mother followed closely, looking around in wonder. She didn't know where they were either, but it was intriguing. The land was flat with rice fields and men and women worked in them.

"This looks like Japan," he said to himself.

"Is this your country in your world?" she questioned, excited.

"It may be the country, but this is not my time. We should head back to the gate. We need to get to Konan's capital, not my world."

"Is this your past or future?" she asked.

"I would say the past," he told her. "My country is highly technologically advanced. We do very little farming, mostly relying on trade. Judging by the recent battle scars and the apparel, I would say that we are sometime during the early Meiji Restoration."

They turned and headed back toward the gate. "Meiji Restoration?"

"The Meiji Restoration was a revolution by the Imperialists to return rule to the emperor of Japan after a take-over by a man named Tokugawa. It was a time of rebuilding and welcoming of influences from overseas. An interesting time, but not mine."

"You!" a man called from behind. Nakago stopped. "What are you doing with that sword, gaijin?"

"Also, there was a ban on swords during the Meiji era," he sighed to himself.

"We weren't causing any trouble," the woman turned.

"You gaijin speak Japanese?" the man looked puzzled. "Are you lovers or something?"

"No, this is my..."

"Sister," she finished. "We were on our way home. Please, sir, if we give you the sword will you leave us?"

The man seemed to consider, and then another man joined them. They spoke quietly for a moment and then closed in on Nakago. He thought it unwise to draw his sword. Most likely they would simply confiscate it, which wouldn't be the worst thing to happen.

"Where did you get this sword?" the newcomer demanded. "Sale of swords is strictly prohibited."

"It was in my family," he responded. "My father was a Shogun."

"What kind of gaijin liar are you? You can't possibly be Japanese," the man accused. "You need to come with us for questioning."

He nodded. He would talk to them, let them take his sword, and leave once they were done. "Go back to the gate... sister," he said to her, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm not going to leave you here, what would Miaka say about this?" she said. "I'm coming with."

"Don't be foolish."

"Watch how you speak to your... sister," she frowned.

The men shrugged and grabbed Nakago's arms. He didn't really want to start another battle, especially with his mother unable to defend herself like Miaka usually could. If swords started waving she could get caught in the crossfire. Plus there were more soldiers just ahead.

They were led into the city. "Nikki," Nakago said to his mother again, looking around. They were in a somewhat shady part of town. "Why don't you wait for me near the gate?"

"I'll wait out here," she smiled as he was pushed into the police building. She sat down on the step.

Nakago watched her sit as he was pushed away. This was the second time somebody had tried to incarcerate him because of his sword. He should have fought them off, but he was loathe to create more of a disturbance and get his mother involved. He would blow the joint if it took too long. They needed to get back. They had other gates to explore.

Meanwhile, outside, Nikki was approached by a young looking man. "Good afternoon," he said to her, smiling broadly.

"Hello," she replied, smiling back. "How are you, brother?"

He was taken aback momentarily, having thought she was a foreigner. "I'm swell," he replied, regaining his equilibrium. "What's a pretty foreigner like you doing sitting here all alone?"

"I'm waiting for my brother," she told him.

"The police usually take a while. Can I get you some oden?" he offered, holding his hand out.

The woman looked around and shrugged. Nakago would be a while and he would surely be able to sense her chi to find her. "Only if it's quick."

"Come on, I'll show you to a place I know," he took her hand and pulled her up, surprised again by her height. She smiled and he shrugged leading her down the street. She didn't notice his dark grin.

Miaka and Ayuru entered the little hut and looked around. No sign of his mother.

"Maybe she went out for something, or went to look for you. We should wait here for her to come back," Miaka advised.

He looked dolefully at the little pile of broken pieces that had been swept neatly into the corner and then sat down.

"I like your home," she said. "It's very cozy. It reminds me of the place I used to live. Where do you sleep?"

Ayuru got up and went over to a little pile of soft bedding in the corner near the stove. It would be warm there, Miaka imagined. It didn't look very comfortable, but he didn't seem to mind at all.

"Where do you live?" the boy asked.

"We have an apartment," she said without thinking. At his puzzled look she explained. "It's a building that has a lot of houses inside it. They're usually small and stacked on top of each other as well as side by side."

"Is yours small?" he asked. "Ours is smaller than Taria's and mostly everybody's..."

"It was small when I lived with my brother, but Ayuru, my husband, he has a good job, so we live in a large one."

"With your daughter?"

"Yes... how did you know...?"

"I heard the elders talking," he shrugged his slim shoulders, standing up. "They say you can't find her, that she was taken. Some people are saying you're not from this world, and that you're from the future."

"People will talk," she laughed nervously. "Our daughter was taken. We're trying to find her. That's why we're here. We're just looking everywhere."

"What does she look like?" he asked, coming up to her and looking at her almost at eye level as she sat on the bench.

"A lot like you," she smiled sadly. "Blue eyes and this pretty blonde hair. But her face looks a little more like mine than her daddy's. Her name is Kaena. She's very beautiful."

"Like Taria?" he asked and then blushed brightly.

She smiled again, this time unable to help the tears.

"I'm sorry!" he said suddenly, taking a step toward her. "I didn't mean to make you sad about your daughter. I'm sure you'll find Kaena." He took another step toward the woman and then hugged her tightly. Miaka laughed softly between sobs and let her husband to be comfort her in the way only a child can.

Ayuru didn't know what was going on here, but he knew this nice lady was sad, so he wanted her to feel better. "Mother will be able to find me if we go somewhere else. Why don't we go see Taria? She's good at cheering me up when I'm sad. Maybe we can borrow a pot from somebody who had an extra," he suggested. "We can probably even get lunch at Taria's."

Miaka smiled and agreed. It would be good to take her mind off of things, and his as well. She allowed him to take her hand and lead her down the village street to Taria's modest hut.

The hut was larger than Ayuru's, but still a humble place. Ayuru came in, obviously accustomed to doing such a thing, and sat by Taria as her mother cooked the midday meal. Miaka poked her head inside. "Is it all right to come in?" she asked nervously.

"Come in," Ayuru said. "It's okay, right?" he asked Taria as an afterthought.

She nodded and motioned her inside. "Isn't your mother around?" the girl questioned.

"No, she went somewhere. Is it okay if we eat here? Her husband went out into the woods this morning and also isn't back yet."

"We always have enough," the girl's mother chimed in, turning around. Though her hair color was similar to Nakago's mother, her eyes were a blue so deep they were almost black. They were stunning and made her tremble a little. "Come in. Join us."

Miaka sat down at the table next to the children, looking out of place. She didn't want to put them out, but she didn't want to leave Ayuru. She was having trouble leaving him to his devices and wondered if her Nakago remembered this day of having his future wife tag along. "Thank you very much for your hospitality."

"Nonsense, it is my duty and my pleasure to help a traveling stranger, especially one with such a handsome Hin husband."

"Mother!" Taria cried. "You haven't even seen him!"

"But you told me he was handsome," she laughed softly.

Taria looked embarrassed and Ayuru looked at the table, his face flushed. "You think he's handsome?" he asked timidly.

"I'm sure you'll be just as handsome," Miaka assured, hiding her silent laughter behind her hand. The boy flushed a deeper shade of crimson. The group ate and spoke merrily together that afternoon. For most of them, it would be the last merry meal they would have.

Hotohori opened his eyes. The world was misty around his body. He touched the ground and felt it give like a soft sponge beneath his fingers. He pushed himself up, confused. He had been in that dungeon, and then... there had been pain. Unimaginable, terrible. Had it killed him? The world around him was soft and filled with a gentle fog that swirled around him, wrapping him in warmth. It soothed him. He looked up and saw a slim figure come toward him. A woman. Her golden hair and eyes shined in the soft glow of the place.

"Saihitei," she said like a breath on the wind. It caressed him like soft cashmere against his skin. He shivered with pleasure.

"Who are you?" he asked, looking toward the voice. "Am I dead?"

She came before him, and he could see what she was in her face. He didn't know how, but he knew this was the woman that had birthed the child that had become Nakago. She came to him and touched his face, smiling. "Your body lives. Your soul has come here for comfort."

"What is this place?" he asked as she ran her fingers gently over his eyes, forcing them shut, her touch slowly erasing the terror and agony.

"This is the place where souls come to rest before they move on to the next life."

"This is... limbo?"

"This is heaven," she smiled. "They come to heal. Some have been harmed gravely in their deaths, and they seek refuge, they must rest before they breathe again."

He understood then. This was the place for souls to gather after death, before reincarnation. Somewhere deep inside he knew this place. He had been here once before, but the memory had faded. No soul could keep memory of this place, because in all its perfect wonder, no soul would feel joy if it remembered such a place of perfection.

He wanted to ask if a soul was reborn through eternity, forced to suffer a living life, never to rest forever in peace. He wanted to ask of God, of angels, but these were questions that were not for him to know. Instead, he breathed in the healing power of the place, the pure joy and love, and allowed the agony to disappear like morning dew in the sun.

"Why am I here?"

"You were touched by the purest evil. A soul cannot touch evil in such a way without fleeing or being destroyed. Your will was strong, so your soul fled to this place. I was sent to meet you."

"Why you?"

"Because soon we will meet another soul, a soul of my line, and we must lead her back to life," she responded, serenely, taking his hand and leading him from the mist and into a beautiful meadow.

"Why?" he responded, laying down with his head in her lap, letting the pain fade far away as the water moved gently nearby, as the soft mist cleansed him. "Why are you here? Why us?"

"Because I am a guide, and you are a friend. Because this is our destiny."

Nuriko got up to find his friend who was taking a rather long time. He was walking down the hallway in the palace when he felt the life force that had always been very close to his own clench in agony. He gasped and fell to the ground clutching his heart. He felt pain and despair like he had never imagined. Two nearby guards knelt down and tried to help but their touches were like scorpion stings. He screamed in pain and fell to his side, curling his knees against his chest and wailing. Just as suddenly as it had started, the pain receded, and the small man began to sob to himself as that life force fled suddenly, out of his reach.

"Nuriko-sama, what is it? What's wrong?"

"Hotohori... I think... he's dead." His eyes slipped shut and he fell away into a faint.

Author's Notes: Thanks, everybody, for the reviews! I'm glad to hear you all are enjoying the story. As per request, I'm trying to give you more on the plots in Konan, and in the next chapter, a lot will be revealed about what's really going on here. Let me know what you think!


	11. Chapter 10: Return

Chapter Ten - Return

Nikki followed the man into what looked like a rather seedy part of town. She had realized after a few minutes of walking with him that he was not as he appeared and was just waiting for a good minute to duck around a corner, but the neighborhood was looking worse and worse and she was almost willing to chance it with the creep rather than end up alone in one of the alleys. She groaned mentally when they turned down one of those creepy alleys. The woman looked around assessing the possibilities for escape. She didn't see anyone guarding the alley they'd gone into, but, she conceded, that didn't mean much.

"Where are you from?" the man asked with a sinister smile. "Foreigners aren't very well accepted here, you know."

"Foreign? Why, I'm from just over that hill! I came here with my... brother, Ayuru. We were only coming to buy grain," she lied smoothly. "Now please return me to my brother. I have no further business with you."

Nikki pulled her hand free by twisting her wrist toward the man's thumb, the weakest point of the hand. Ayuru's father had taught her that in case the Hin were ever to invade. He wanted her to be able to escape unharmed. It would obviously not work when that time came, but it had indeed come in handy now, she thought. She managed to free herself from the man who pulled her, but as she turned, two others came down the alley behind her.

"Well, by Seiryu," she swore. Her eye moved across the alley. There was an opening if she could be quick. She thought she could. Nikki dashed forward and dodged the man to her right, then swerved left to miss the next man. They ran after her, but she was mercifully in good shape because of her work in the fields during the wet season. She was fast, and outmaneuvered them for a while, but they were faster. They descended upon her and she screamed bloody murder, struggling and wrenching herself from their grasp.

One of them licked her neck roughly, sliding his tongue across her skin, tasting her flesh. She shuddered and stomped her foot on the nearest boot. The man cursed and drew back, and when he recoiled she brought her elbow back with all her strength. She whirred around and punched his nose with the base of her hand.

"Bitch!" one of the others yelled and slapped her across the side of the face, sending her sprawling to the ground. She looked up, glaring and holding her face. Her eye felt like it had exploded out of her head, but she still managed to look furious.

"Now now, gentlemen. Let's not be hasty. Don't damage that face. A face like hers will make a killing. However, she is a little too... lively. She needs to be brought down a few pegs," he chuckled and knelt over her, pinning her wrists to the ground. She grunted and struggled angrily, but he held her there, pulling open her now-dusty sari, exposing her.

"If you touch me, you will pay," she whispered fiercely, smirking coldly. "My son will destroy you."

To anybody who knew the Seiryu no Seishi, she was the picture of Nakago's coldness at its best. Her eyes narrowed and she concentrated on the feel of her boy in her mind.

"Your son?" the man over her laughed. "He can't be more than eight years old, judging by your age. I'd like to see the brat try. Should he get too close, he may meet the same fate as you."

Nikki's face winced in pain at the reminder of what would happen to her beautiful boy.

"Ayuru," she said softly as the man opened her clothes further, wedging himself between her long legs.

A flash of blue appeared from behind and the man jumped and fell back.

"Get away from my mother," the familiar, deep voice said, more coldly than a late winter's night. "You have three seconds to remove yourself from my sight."

"Or what?" the men looked confused. If anything, this man looked older than the woman calling him her son! "Will you call the police, gaijin?"

The men laughed raucously until violent energy the color of the night sky began to radiate off the man before them. To an outsider, his face would have been a placid mask. To his mother, it was righteous fury made manifest. Nikki pushed herself up as the men scrambled away, covering her body from her son's eyes. A glowing orb formed in his hand and he aimed at their retreating backs only to feel a small but firm hand on his shoulder.

"Don't waste it. You'll need it later to handle men far worse. Let's leave this place."

Indecision showed clearly on his face. These men had tried to violate his mother. But she had asked him. After a few moments, the orb dispersed and the the glowing halo dimmed until it, too, disappeared.

"I heard you call me," he said softly.

"Of course you did. There are few bonds stronger than the one we once shared."

"Still share," he murmured and took her arm, heading back toward the gate.

"How did you get away from the authorities?" she questioned. Her eyes glanced to the same sword he'd been carrying before. "And with your sword."

He gave her a pointed look that clearly said that it would be better not to ask, and she dropped it.

"Is your world still this unfriendly to foreigners?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Not so much."

"At least, then, there is some hope for our world."

They walked on in silence until they reached the gate. They walked through and returned to the Hin.

Miaka shrieked when she saw the first hut catch fire. It was too soon. She wasn't ready to leave these wonderful, kind people. She was with Taria and Ayuru when it happened. The Kutou soldiers marched in, tearing down all in their path, even women and children. Miaka wasn't sure what she was to do. She wasn't supposed to be there, and she wasn't sure where the children were supposed to be.

"Mother!" the boy cried and darted off toward the village and his mother's hut.

Miaka supposed that the hut was probably where he was meant to be. She grabbed Taria's hand and followed the boy. It took two or three near death experiences before Miaka realized she should erect a shield around them. Ayuru dodged through the streets that blazed orange and Miaka followed, determined, at least, to get him to his destination safely.

"Mother!!!" he screamed, running into the little hut.

"She's not here! Where is she?!" he cried, tears of frustration running down his beautiful face.

"I'm sure she'll come back. You should wait here for her. I'll go find Taria's parents. Don't leave. Promise me you'll stay here," she said to him gravely. Her heart broke as he nodded. They could still escape... but it would create a terrible paradox. Miaka took Taria and ran to find the girl's parents. They walked quickly through the quaint town, now a disaster of burning and death, and saw the hut where they had dined so recently. When she was last there it was a happy place, bustling with life. Now it was burned, great slats destroyed, nothing more than a flaming pile of rubble, lit up like the star festival. Miaka sensed no life there.

"Miaka-san," a striking Hin man said as he passed, carrying weapons and heading for the front lines of the invasion. "You shouldn't be here. Take the child and go far away."

The woman nodded. "Let's head for the blue lake," Miaka decided. "But... Ayuru!" she wailed, tears in her pale eyes. "He'll be fine, I promise." She smiled even as tears ran down her face. She took Taria's hand, erected a shield and ran for the lake.

Nakago stepped out of the gate and into the village of his nightmares.

"It has begun," he said quietly, eyes surveying the burning village.

"Where should I be?" his mother asked.

"The hut. I'll take you," he replied.

"No. Find Miaka. You have already lived this once. Find her and go."

"Mother..." his voice was barely above a whisper.

"Ayuru," she drew his form close, wrapping her arms around his well-muscled form. "I will always love you. You have made me so proud. Whatever mistakes you have made have been forgiven. Take care of Miaka. Never forget your family."

"I love you, mother," he said so softly she barely heard, his face buried in her beautiful golden hair. "I'm sorry for what will happen."

"I know."

Just then Miaka came dashing through the woods, Taria in tow. "Nakago!" she cried, running to him as he pulled away from his mother. "It's happening."

"I'm aware," he responded. "You must take Taria and go."

She nodded in agreement. "Goodbye, Ayuru."

"Wait," he said, kneeling before the girl. "Be strong," he told her, looking into the face so much like Kaena's. "Ayuru needs your strength."

"I will," she said. It was as if, somehow, she knew.

The Hin man wrapped his arms around her briefly, feeling the girl who had died so long ago in his arms. "Goodbye."

Nikki took the girl's hand. "Goodbye, my child." And they ran.

"We must go," he said to Miaka, who only stood there sobbing. He pulled her by the arm and they ran off into the woods. And the land of the Hin burned with brilliant blue light behind them.

Away from the dimensional travelers, several important things were happening. A young girl opened her eyes for the first time in days. She had been suspended in time until that moment. Her first response was to cry. She was in a dark chamber, her right foot chained to the floor like a short leash. The tiny girl, so much like her parents, was terrified and unwittingly thrust into danger. Although she was frightened, she began to think. She had always been the brightest in her class, and not just because of her book smarts. She examined the room. She was alone, though there were others cells. How she knew that, nobody would have been able to guess, but she was right. She was not near her parents, but she could still feel them in her mind as she always did, and took comfort in that.

A man stepped into the room, looking down at her small form. "So you're awake," he said.

"You're not a human," she said accusingly, pushing herself to her feet and glaring as if his facade was a blatant lie.

"You are correct," It said, It's face smiling without mirth. "Do you know what I am?"

"Dark thing!" she hissed, her blue eyes dark and twisting with anger. "You feel dirty."

The man frowned. "What a subjective term," It came to the edge of her cell, It's hands dangling through the bars. The girl scooted back so It couldn't reach her. She would think of It as nothing more than It because it wasn't he or she, it just... wasn't. "You see darkness as evil... we see light as the oppression... If you were like us, you would understand. Perhaps we can show you."

"Dark is evil because it doesn't love!" she began to cry as It opened the cell and stepped toward her.

"Light is oppressive because it binds us!" It hissed at her. "Because we did not follow the ways of the Creator, we were banished! Because we dared to think for ourselves, we were made dirty, hated, abhorred!"

It knelt before her, It's hand brushing her cheek, and she began to scream. The sound was piercing and filled with terror and the knowledge of every evil that ever had been or would be. Her body convulsed and she fell to the floor, her eyes blank. She had retreated into herself.

"Don't!" a sharp voice said from behind. A figure was slumped over the newcomer's shoulder. "If she retreats she will be of no use. We didn't capture her to kill her."

"She is a danger to us, we should exterminate her while we still can!" It yelled, whirring around. "She speaks only of truth and light!"

The man threw the limp body into the cell next to the still form of the girl. "She holds power and we will use it! We will turn her to us. She will see what we want her to see."

"You will use those methods, then?" It asked, chuckling.

The man nodded and then began to laugh. "There is no more fitting justice for what has been done to us."

The Things left, laughing. Once they had left, Kaena opened her eyes, looking around. She had just learned of terrible things. Before her eyes flashed the life of her father in his previous life and she wept for him. She saw him in his village, talking to her a girl who looked so much like her, and she had seen the girl die. She had seen what the emperor had done, and she had seen the pain, and what he had become. She saw the things he had done to her mother, and to Yui-san, and in that moment she wept for the havoc evil had wreaked in their lives. Her father and her mother had hated each other, he had tried to hurt her like the emperor hurt him. She had seen evil and her spirit began to crack, shards falling from her tiny, beautiful soul. But then she heard a voice, somehow embodied, not from the man in the cell with her, but through him.

"_All things work together for the good of the Creator,"_ it whispered. And that moment, she saw how good had worked through the evil to bring her parents together, to bring her to life. She cried tears of joy, looking at the form.

"Thank you, Hotohori-san," she said softly, looking at the empty body.

Hotohori removed his hand from Nikki's shoulder. He had spoken through his body even though he wasn't in it. It was a strange sensation, feeling his body channel his words without being animated in any way. Nikki had helped him to show her what good could come through evil. He had a feeling that it was a very important thing for her to understand. In her parents' lifetimes, they had seen unthinkable evils, but it had never been without purpose. Even the most sinister plots had brought the story to where it was meant to be, though the play was still unfolding. In seeing that, however, Hotohori felt confident that whatever happened, it would be part of a plan mapped out long before the book, long before life itself.

"There is one more thing we must do before I leave you," the beautiful Hin woman said, taking the former emperor by the hand. They stepped forward, but instead of physically moving, it was as if the world moved around them, changing from scene to scene more quickly than his eye could perceive. They were in valleys, then mountains, then at a vast temple where they stopped.

The temple was mammoth. It appeared to be made of the finest granite, white and shimmering in a beautiful sun. The front was ornate with massive stone pillars and archways, with jewels on each step leading to the vast entrance. Hotohori wept at its splendor. He had been here before. Inside were sleeping spirits, spirits cleansed of all past pains and evils, ready to go out.

"This is the house of the dead, where souls waiting to be reborn must stay until their time comes. One soul in this house, however, was taken before his time by a nefarious plot. The girl was used by demons to kill him and exact revenge, but only brought about fate's intended destination. He has been waiting here, sleeping until the time when he would be again needed. This is a soul you should know well. You must call him."

Hotohori knew of which soul she spoke. This soul had been taken before his time by a girl named Sui Nifei. He had been murdered, but through his death came the birth of the Hope. It was fate, and it was not fate, and now it was time for him to awake and take his place in the battle to come. The Suzaku no Seishi raised his chi then, calling that familiar force from the temple. He could feel it awakening.

"Will he remember his death? Will he remember this place?" he asked even as his chi became a beacon for the departed soul.

"He will remember everything until the moment he died, but nothing more. He may briefly recall the beauty of heaven, but those memories fade quickly."

"Is this why I came here? Will I return once he revives?" the Seishi asked.

"No, you have one more task, but that time has not yet come. I will return when it comes," she responded. "Look," she breathed. "He lives."

From the entrance of the temple came a lithe figure. Hotohori could see his eyes blazing through the dim, ever-mist of the temple. He was clothed in Konan finery, with gold trim on his loose-fitting apparel made from the finest silk.

"Welcome back, my friend," the Konan emperor said with a joyous smile. "I have missed you."

Tamahome looked around. He saw the Hin woman and immediately knew who it was. "What is this place?"

"Heaven," he said.

"Are you dead too?" the man asked.

"I'm not dead, my spirit has fled here. You're not dead either, not anymore. You're going back to the land of the living."

Dimensions and years away, Miaka sat upright. She and Nakago had made it as far as the border and then stopped to rest. They laid on the soft grass in each other's arms, each left to their own thoughts. He had finally dozed off, but at her distressed cry, the blue eyes had snapped open.

"Tamahome," she whispered. "Kaena... I feel them both."

"I, too, feel Kaena," he replied, pushing himself up wearily. "But Tamahome..." there was obvious doubt in his eyes. "He has been dead for twelve years..."

"I know his spirit, Nakago," her eyes flashed angrily at his doubting tone. "I know he died, but I know what he felt. Maybe not here, but somewhere... he's alive."

Nakago frowned, thinking suddenly of all the implications. He was confident that Miaka was his, and he hers, but this was an extraneous variable he had no controls for. Would Tamahome view him as a friend who his friend loved, or as the man who had stolen his love and taken what was rightfully his? The blue eyed man wrapped his arms securely around his wife.

"Kaena is not in this dimension," he said quietly. "We will need to find this dimension."

"Should we, then, find another gate and jump again?" Miaka asked softly, relishing in the warmth of his arms around her. His chin rested on her head, his hands holding hers. She would try not to think about Tamahome for now. If he was alive in some other world, she was happy. Why she had only felt his presence just now, she didn't know.

"Yes, but until then, we should sleep," he responded. "We know that Kaena is alive, so we should sleep now so that we can fight later."

Miaka agreed, and they laid back down under the light blankets they had packed. The night was cool and they could still see the dim burning of the Hin lands behind them. She turned to her husband, touching his face, and he looked at her curiously.

"Are you all right?" she asked. "I know it had to be hard, being there again. It was hard for me, to see how it happened."

He looked at the sky where orange still lit the night. Right now he and Taria would be spending their last few hours together before light broke. In the morning, the emperor would kill her, and that night, he would kill him in a different way. "No," he said to her. "But I will be. It was different this time."

"Different? Will it mess up the time lines?" she looked concerned.

"Nothing was different from how I remember it, but... this time I got to say goodbye."

"You know she loved you, she gladly went there to save you."

"I know," he said softly.

Miaka brought her lips to his, tasting the sweetness of his soft lips. His arms were tight around her. In so many ways he protected her, keeping her safe from physical harm, keeping her from becoming to concerned with life's worries, but her presence continued to be a reminder of what he was and what he had been and done, and that it could be forgiven. Though he protected her, she protected him as well. He drew his lips away, resting his face against her slim, graceful neck.

"I thank you for looking after her," a voice said. "But now I'm going to have to ask you to step away from my girlfriend."

Miaka's eyes snapped open and she looked at Nakago, who was gazing steadily behind her head. The voice. She knew that voice. She slowly pushed herself up and away, turning. At first she only saw shadow on the face, but she knew who it was. She blinked to be absolutely certain, but sure as the sky was blue, behind her stood Tamahome.

"I'm not sure how I got here... last thing I remember was being at the hospital, but it's good to see you're... well..." he had an odd look on his face.

It was the same face she had known better than ten years ago. He hadn't aged a day. His eyes were the same shimmering shade, his hair just as she had remembered. But it couldn't be real.

"This has to be... a trick..." she pushed further away, leaving the blonde man slightly distressed (she so easily pushed him away). "You're... you can't be here."

Nakago stood up.

"It's me," he said confidently. "See?" As suddenly as he appeared, so did the character of oni on his forehead. She knew it was him, but she couldn't force herself to believe it. "Now come here and hug your boyfriend! Did you miss me?"

Nakago watched in silence as Tamahome took her hand and pulled her up and away from him, wrapping his arms around her. He didn't seem to notice the tiny laugh lines on her pretty face. He didn't notice that her hair was shorter a little less shiny than it had once been. He didn't notice the more mature feel of her body. He didn't notice anything was different until he looked at Nakago. He pulled away, looking at the blonde Shogun behind her. "You look older, Nakago."

Miaka stepped back toward her husband. The last time he had seen the blonde shogun, he had been about twenty-seven, and now he was over forty. His handsome face contained some fine lines and his blonde hair was shorter and lighter—Nakago knew the lightness was due to tiny amounts of grey appearing. Tamahome's eyes flicked from the man's older looking face to to the arrangement of diamonds on Miaka's left hand ring finger, and then to the band on Nakago's hand. Nakago put his arm around her shoulder protectively.

"Tamahome... he is... we are older," she looked at him, trying to make him understand. Tears spilled from her eyes as he came to realize what they were. "You died in that hospital. Twelve years ago."

"Do you think this has anything to do with Miboshi's return and the summoning of the demon lords?" Nuriko asked gravely, looking at a strand of long hair that had been left, the only thing remaining of Hotohori.

"Miboshi? Wasn't he one of the Seiryu no Seishi?" Xansho asked softly. It could have been any of them that was taken.

"Yes. His urgings brought about the release of the four demon lords as well as his own resurrection. He attempted to return the darkest of the evil lords to life as well, to grant himself immortality."

"When was this?" Boushin asked.

"Shortly after Miaka and Nakago visited you both... it was that same journey that ended with Miboshi's resurrection, and eventual death," Nuriko allowed himself a little smirk. He wasn't so easily killed. "I wonder... I wonder if this even has to do with the plot that ended in Tamahome's death."

"I'm not sure how it could..." Boushin said softly. "But what exactly happened?"

"To summarize a long story, Miboshi said he was attempting to grant himself immortality. He did this by stirring up the Jigoku no Yashi in hell and using them to summon the four dark lords, who then assisted Miboshi in his escape from Hell. Miaka summoned Suzaku and sealed him and the demon lords. A year later, Tamahome—Miaka's lover at the time—was murdered by a girl named Sui Nifei. The girl was in love with Miaka and was very jealous of Tamahome. However, some demons used her to get close to Nakago and Miaka because... Well, Miaka told me once that she and Nakago were destined to be together, that Tenkou and Taiitsukun had both tried to keep them apart to prevent something, but that fate had won in the end. Something didn't want those two together, but I don't know why. I do know, though, that the same demons that told them that were searching for something, and they found it. Some sort of artifact."

"It's possible that they're..." Xansho looked thoughtful and a little distressed.

"What?"

"Well, I heard at one point from a servant that knew Nakago that the Hin had a term for a person who was destined to be with another... I can't remember the term, though. Something like 'ai no mitte mirai'--love of the seeing future or something," he looked unsure of his explanation and paused.

"Go on," Nuriko urged. "Anything you know will be useful."

"Well, it had to do with a legend of a blue lake in the Hin lands, but I've heard similar legends through other people, like diplomats and travelers. Basically, if two people are destined to be together, the child or children they produce will be special. They'll be children of fate, and they will bear a great power and a great responsibility. Legend has it that Taiitsukun was one of these children, that she was mortal but that she gave up her life as a human to guard the world."

"Come to think of it, I have heard something like that, but I thought Tenkou was that 'ai no mitte mirai' or what have you," Boushin agreed. "Although I thought Taiitsukun gave up her immortality to seal Tenkou... I'm not sure."

"I thought Tenkou was a demon lord," Nuriko looked confused. "But I'm sure you remember more lore than I... I've been dead in this world for thirty-five years or so."

"I think I remember," Boushin declared. "The legend I was taught is as follows. Thousands of years ago, a powerful man was born. He was a child born of two people destined for each other and he grew in power. He traveled the world in search of more power, to learn more magic, but as he traveled, he gained more and more knowledge of dark magic. Over the years, his lust for power warped him and he became the most evil and powerful sorcerer of the age."

"Yes! He split the countries!" Xansho looked as if a light had been switched on. "He caused so much famine and disaster that the regions began to rebel against one another. They had always lived in harmony to that point, but Tenkou split the lands into what we know them as today—Sairo, Hokkan, Kutou, and Konan."

"And these four countries were at war. That was the time that Taiitsukun was born. She was also a child like Tenkou, extraordinary and powerful, but unlike him, she was merciful. She was pained by what evils he had released. She managed to seal Tenkou's spirit into another world."

"The ShiJinTenshiSho," Nuriko realized. "She broke off a piece of the dimension and sealed his soul there, leaving his empty body to wander in the other. And she stayed in the world of the book to guard it forever. The book isn't another world, the book is the gateway! That explains why I and the other Seishi could be reborn in Miaka's world. It's not the "real world" because they're both real, they're just separated."

"Do you think maybe Tenkou is trying to break free? To destroy the wall between the worlds so that he can be reunited with his body?" Boushin asked.

Nuriko's eyes widened. That sounded exactly like something the evil sorcerer would do. He smacked his own head and then regretted it, rubbing at the lump forming there. "If Nakago and Miaka really are one of those couples that were destined to be together, that would make Kaena a child like Tenkou and Taiitsukun! Do you think... that maybe she was taken to be a vessel to unite Tenkou's body and soul?"

The men looked gravely at each other. If that was true, she was in grave danger. But, if they could have done it already, they would have, meaning they were still in need of something, Nuriko deducted. "But... what do they need to do that? What kind of artifact would they need to use..."

"If he intends to use her body as a vessel, he would need to remove her spirit from her body and seal it to take his place," Boushin realized.

"I wish Chichiri was here!" Nuriko punched the table and it cracked. "Oops... sorry."

Through the crack in the table wafted a very much two-dimensional Chichiri, floating up like a flat caricature. "Ask and you shall receive, no da!" the sorcerer said happily, popping into a three dimensional form and bowing to the two emperors.

"Chichiri! How do you always do that?" the strong Seishi demanded, very surprised.

"Sore wa... himitsu desu!" he leaned forward and winked, waggling one finger.

Nuriko scratched his head.

"That was an anime reference, no da," he sweat dropped. "Xellos da..."

"Whatever," the other Seishi shook his head. "Have you heard what we've been talking about? Are we on the right path or barking up the wrong tree?"

"I can't say for sure, but Taiitsukun thinks so. You are correct in believing that the girl is safe, but if Tenkou manages to truly separate her body and spirit and merge his own, or worse, if he summons the dark lord into his body... these words will merge and whatever is left will probably not be salvageable."

"So you think they are looking for an artifact, then? The gangs..."

"Yes, the gangs are definitely connected, and I think you're right, they are looking for some holy artifact, probably one to hold Kaena's spirit," he said softly, looking solemn.

"What kind of thing would hold a spirit?"

"Well, a powerful item like the book of ages... that's what the ShiJinTenshiSho is, you know. The book writes history as it occurs and remembers all history in it."

"Wait, the ShiJinTenshiSho is the Book of the Ages?" Nuriko gaped.

Chichiri nodded, smiling. "Indeed it is. No ordinary object could be used for such a task!"

"So are there any other highly magical, God-created objects around here that they might be looking for?"

"They already have the Stone of the For Gods..." Chichiri mused. "So it's not that, though they probably have some sinister use for that as well."

"Stone of the Four Gods?"

"The item the bandits stole from the ship Miaka and Nakago were on. It's a small stone, said to be made up of the tears of the gods when the world was split. It has highly magical properties, but I'm not sure what they want with it. It's traditionally used to summon holy power, though I suppose it could be twisted to use... to summon... oh Lord," Chichiri disappeared.

"What just happened?" Boushin looked confused.

"I don't even know," Nuriko shook his head.

"Perhaps your royal library has a record of such items?" Xansho asked Boushin, lifting a delicate brow. "I know our shelves are littered with old lore and spell books and other such things. I'm sure yours are as well."

"How can we find what we're looking for if we don't even know WHAT we're looking for?!" Nuriko growled again, this time kicking a chair, which went flying across the room and shattered into splinters against a giant stone relief of Suzaku.

"Well, we're looking for a magical item, so that eliminates spell books, at least, but as for the rest... I think Xansho-san is correct. We should scour the libraries."

"There's more than one?" the Seishi looked daunted already.

"There are twelve libraries in this palace," Boushin said and then called the nearest guard over. "There, now the servants will find for us every book of lore that so much as mentions a magical object. If we can figure out what they're looking for, maybe we can find it first."

"Or we could witness the end of the world while still reading about golden chamberpots and magical swords that can't be pulled out of magical stones..."

Boushin went to fill his mother in on what was happening and Xansho excused himself to speak with his troops. It seemed that he would be staying a while after all. Nuriko sat alone in the large room, staring at the relief of Suzaku. Why did these things keep happening? And where in all hell was Hotohori? He shouldn't have pressured him, he thought guiltily. Maybe if he hadn't been so eager to get away from Nuriko he wouldn't have wandered off alone. The Seishi rested his face in his hands. Would they be able to stop it before it was too late this time? It seemed like every advantage fell to the bad guys. Nuriko, feeling utterly hopeless and scared for his friends, hid his face and wept.


	12. Chapter 11: Paradox

[Chapter 11 - Paradox

Kaena sat against Hotohori's body for warmth. She knew that Hotohori-san wasn't in there, but his body was still breathing, his heart beating, and therefore she knew he was alive. When he had spoken to her, the body hadn't moved, and she had felt where it came from... it was from the world beyond. She had always known of the world beyond, even before her papa and mama had explained death to her after they attended a funeral for an older friend who had passed away. It was something that was innate in her the same way that the knowledge of right and wrong had been innate, the same way she almost always knew what to say. She simply knew things that others had to learn.

Kaena didn't know why this was, and wouldn't until many years later when it was explained to her. But Taiitsukun knew it was because, like her, Kaena's soul had been in constant contact with the Creator. All such children of fate had the ability to touch the Creator, to commune with them in a personal way, and likewise, they had the ability to touch evil, if they so chose. Kaena, because of her parents, because of the love in her life, had always lived each day in the shadow of the Creator. It didn't make her any less human—she made her little girl mistakes like everybody else, disobeying her parents or doing something without thinking, but it gave her knowledge that hadn't been seen since the book of the ages, and it gave her wisdom to match.

So, knowing that Hotohori's empty body would give her the warmth she needed, she snuggled against him. Hotohori-san was like a second father to her... she had a lot of second fathers, actually. All of her mother's special friends, the ones that also had a sort of communion with the divine, they all loved her like her own. Daddy's friends, too, although there were some of his friends that she didn't trust. She trusted all of the friends that were like her mommy's friends, but some of the business ones were dirty and she didn't like them at all. She stayed close to daddy when they were around.

The girl closed her eyes against Hotohori-san's chest. She wanted her parents, but she knew they would come, that they were coming, the same way she knew other things. She was scared, but she wasn't worried. She was scared because she was in a strange place alone and she didn't know what was going to happen, but she wasn't worried because, as Hotohori-san's voice had said, all things worked together for good for the Creator. For now, she felt that she should sleep, and she would let later worry about itself.

Tamahome stared between the two. Now that he looked at them, it was obvious that they were both older. They were still both very attractive, very youthful for their ages... Miaka really did look mostly the same, and Nakago looked older compared to how he had looked before, which was about the same age as Miaka. Now he looked like a normal, middle-aged man, but it was obvious they were not as spry as they used to be. In the back of his mind, in some distant part, he remembered his death, and he remembered meeting a man in a bright place, and then coming here. The memory was dim and fading fast, but he knew in his heart that she spoke the truth.

"So you're married," he said softly, too many emotions passing through his face. It hurt Miaka to look at him.

"For ten years," the man replied, because Miaka couldn't.

"Tamahome... I'm sorry," she said softly.

"You don't... don't apologize. If you love him... then I'm glad... I'm glad you could be happy for these past years. I wouldn't have wanted you to cry over my grave forever," he tried to crack a smile, but it only looked pained. "What are you doing out here? This is the book, isn't it?"

"Kaena, she's missing..." Miaka said softly.

"Kaena?" he asked.

Miaka looked away, but Nakago held the man's gaze. He had never been one to skitter away from hard questions, except, of course, when Miaka asked them. He owed it to the man to be straight forward. "Kaena is our daughter. She was abducted by demons a few days ago. We followed her here and have been jumping through dimensional gates trying to find her."

"Daughter..." he said softly and then laughed. "Does she look like Miaka? Does she like hamburgers?" His voice and face held unimaginable pain. It should have been him. It should have been his daughter, a girl with Miaka's face and Tamahome's scruples... not his.

"She looks like him," the woman said softly.

"We could use your assistance in finding her," the blonde said. "Since it seems your powers of Suzaku have been returned."

The young man nodded, looking at these people, these strangers who should have hated each other, but who loved each other instead. He was still wary of the blonde man who had, in so many ways, hurt them all, but if a child of Miaka's was in danger, he would do whatever he could to help her.

"I'm going to take a walk and see what's around here," the younger man said softly, unable to even look at them, standing there together. "I'll be back by morning." Before Miaka could protest, he ran back into the foliage and disappeared into the night.

Miaka turned and sobbed into her husband's chest, and he stood silently, unsure of how to help her. Her past had just returned full force. He was convinced that, when they married, it was because she believed that her love was truly gone. He didn't think that, if given the knowledge that he would one day return, she would have ever wed him. She had loved the boy with her whole heart. He knew that because of who Miaka was, she wouldn't leave him physically, but the stoic man couldn't help wondering if perhaps, despite everything they had felt, she had never truly been with him in spirit.

"I never thought he would come back," she said softly. "I'm happy... I'm happy he's alive... he can live his life, his siblings... oh God, his siblings are older than him. But they'll be so glad to see him. His father..." her words became less coherent the more she spoke. He could only imagine the emotions going through her mind. Happiness to see him, regret for not having waited, confusion because she had committed to one man while still loving the other, or so he thought. In truth, the most terrible thing about seeing him again was knowing the kind of pain he was in. Miaka loved her husband in a way she had never loved Tamahome, but she had cared for him and never wanted to see him suffer again. The shogun sat them down on the soft ground and pulled the blanket over her, saying nothing, simply holding her until she cried herself to sleep.

Nakago wrapped a barrier of his power around the petite woman to hold her warmth close to her body and to protect her if an enemy should appear, and then he got up and walked into the wilderness. It was easy to find the Suzaku no Seishi in the dark. Not only was his power a beacon for the former shogun, he was lighting up a portion of a nearby stream with his glowing red aura. The Seiryu no Seishi stood in the clearing just out of sight, watching the young man vent his frustration. While it was incredibly unrestrained and juvenile, Nakago reminded himself that it was understandable—he was twenty-one years old, brash, angry, and confused. He could understand the boy's feelings well. He was feeling some of those same emotions himself, although he did have the knowledge that Miaka was his, and he was hers.

"How long are you going to stand there watching me?" the boy snapped, not looking at the shogun. His aura flared dangerously.

Nakago smirked. He liked a challenge. "I wanted to see how useful you would be for our little adventure. If you couldn't detect me, how could you detect an enemy?"

"I've known you were there," the young man said softly. "What do you want? Come to gloat?"

Nakago frowned. He expected hostility, but it was strange to be facing that uneasy distrust. Most of Miaka's Seishi had come to accept him as Miaka's husband, if not more. Chiriko and Mitsukake had been especially accepting. He was used to some hostility from Hotohori, but he couldn't blame the man. He would hold a grudge too, had the tables been turned. He had, after all, killed the man and stolen away the woman he was in love with. But in the end, her Seishi knew that he cared for Miaka just as much as them and that he would protect her. In other words, despite hostility, they trusted him. Tamahome had no such trust, and his hostility was suspicious and angry. He didn't see two grown adults in a consensual relationship with a daughter, he saw a grown man and his eighteen year old girlfriend with a kid that, for all he knew, she didn't want to have, let alone with him. "I came to tell you that if you're going to throw a tantrum, you would be wise to at least mask your chi. You're advertising to every chi-sensing being within a league that you're here, and I would prefer if you not bring more trouble on us than necessary."

"Did you leave Miaka there unarmed?" he was suddenly furious.

"Miaka can take care of herself," he replied. "But no, I shielded her."

Tamahome's temper seemed to cool a little at his words. He looked uneasily at the man, his aura dying down until he only glowed faintly. They stared at each other for a while.

"You knew this would happen," the blonde man said quietly. "The letter you wrote before your death."

"When I wrote that, I expected to be DEAD when it happened. What did I care as long as she was happy? I still want her to be happy, but..." he looked away, staring up at the sky distantly. "I never expected she would be happy without me while I was still around. It's a little jarring, okay? For you, for her, it's been years. She's had time to move on, she's had a life, a daughter! I woke up to find that everything I ever knew was different."

"She never stopped loving you," the older man said, not without some bitterness.

"But she did let go. It's not like I blame her. If this is all true, I was gone, she was lonely... although I don't see why it couldn't have been Hotohori..." he muttered. "I don't blame her."

"But you blame me," he quirked a pale brow, smirking.

"Yes," he frowned. "Not like you think, though... At least, I don't think so... You took her from me... but it wasn't to be spiteful. I would have to be a real jackass to assume you stayed with her for ten years just to spite me. But part of me can't help wondering if, maybe, you took advantage of her during her mourning. I don't doubt your feelings now... Miaka is a pretty good judge of character, in the end, but..."

"You question my motivations for being with her in the first place?" he asked, honestly a little amused by the prospect. The boy really didn't trust him—or at least who he had been when they knew each other.

"Me, her fiance, her high school sweetheart had just died... How long was it before you were engaged?" he asked.

"A little over a year," he responded.

"How did it happen?" the Suzaku no Seishi questioned. "Did you..." his face turned red. "I don't want to think about that!"

"By a strange twist of fate, we ended up on a cruise with the woman that killed you, who happened to be working with the same demons that were responsible for Miboshi's release. There were murders... the woman I was with was murdered, so my room became a crime scene, so I moved into her room," he smirked at the obvious implications.

"So you did take advantage of her!" he accused angrily, taking a step closer.

"Oh, we ended up in bed together," he said non-chalantly. "The anniversary of your death, she got drunk and tried to go up with some strange old man, but I caught her before she did. I thought it would be better, at least, if she was going to do something she regretted, it be with somebody she knew."

Tamahome's aura had flared again. "You used her... when she was vulnerable..."

Nakago chuckled and Tamahome leapt at him, punching him across the face. The blonde man allowed him to take his shot and then erected an electrified barrier, sending him sprawling to his back.

"Feel better now?" the blonde asked, still laughing, but rubbing his now-bruised jaw.

"No!" he yelled.

"I didn't sleep with her," he said as the boy peeled himself up to have another go. "She tried mightily, but I didn't want her first time to be like that."

Tamahome stopped in his tracks, his aura flickering helplessly. "You... didn't?"

"I took her upstairs with me, she fairly dragged me into bed. She regretted never getting close to you and didn't want to make the same mistake twice. I assured her there would be other opportunities with me, and she eventually passed out."

"Why the hell didn't you say that to begin with?!" he yelled, completely outraged.

"Because you wanted to hit me, but you had no reason to do it. I do not entirely appreciate when people bear such hostility toward me and did not want it clouding your judgment in the days to come. Now you will be satisfied every time you see me rub my jaw, and you will actually focus on what we're here to do, which is to find my daughter."

Tamahome looked at the man for a long time, then. It was true, he had wanted to take a sock at him, just to take out some of the frustration, and the man had seen that. The dark haired man could see, now, the advantage of egging him on like that (although he was grudged to admit that the blonde ever did anything for a reason other than his own personal amusement.) Aside from that, Tamahome had also seen the look in the man's face when he spoke of his daughter. Concern, love... things he never expected to see in this man's face.

"How old is your daughter?" he asked, half expecting the kid to be ten or eleven.

"Seven," he responded.

"Is she... all right?" he asked significantly.

"As far as I know, she is still unharmed, but we cannot seem to find her trail."

"You said before that you were hopping through dimensions somehow. How does that work?" the boy asked, his hostility cooling a little. These people were not the people he had once known, and he would need to remind himself of that fact. This man was not the man he had killed so many years ago in the book, and Miaka was not the same innocent girl he had loved. She was a woman with a daughter, and Nakago, despite his icy exterior, obviously cared very deeply for the woman and his child. He made a mental note to ask him what his new name was... perhaps that would help him disassociate the man who tried to rape and kill his girlfriend with the man who had given her a child and protected her on several adventures.

"It's a rather long story," he looked loathe to tell it all and decided not to.

"Give me the highlights. What are we fighting? How are we trying to find your daughter?" he looked very much business-like in that moment.

"At this point, we do not know exactly who or what we are fighting. We know very little, but I suspect this has to do with Miboshi and the dark lord. Kaena is... special."

"Every parent thinks their kid is amazing," Tamahome said doubtfully. "They're probably trying to lure you there."

"If they were trying to lure us, they would be far more helpful in getting us to her than they have been. So far we haven't once been attacked and haven't seen any sign of demons. They want her for her power. I am not one to be overly sentimental about anything. Kaena is special. She is powerful and intuitive... I do not know why, but I have always known she would be of great importance. I believe the demons want to use that power for some purpose."

"But if she's still unharmed..."

Nakago considered. Why would she still be unharmed if they wanted to use her for something? Wouldn't they have already done so if they could? Yes... if they could. On that cruise, those bandits/demons had been looking for something in the treasury... some artifact, perhaps? Whatever they wanted her for, he knew it was not a simple matter to use the power of another against their will. Kodoku required spells and potions. "Because they're not ready. They must be gathering forces or whatever is necessary to do what they want to do."

"So how are we finding her?" he asked again. "Don't tell me you've been randomly jumping into various dimensions...?"

"The world is very unstable right now. There are gateways; dimensional pockets, all over the world here. We have ended up in a few various places and times."

"Wait, this involves time travel as well? When are we, then?" his hostility was all but forgotten as he faced this new puzzle.

"This is Kutou, or rather, just on the far side of the Kutou border," he paused, his eye glancing to the dying firelight of the burning forest. "This was the night when the Hin were attacked."

Tamahome's eyes widened. He knew Nakago was Hin, and also remembered from when he had killed the man the first time exactly what had happened. Somehow, he had seen those memories as his hand pierced the man's heart. "This was when your village was destroyed, when you were taken to... the emperor..." he trailed off. The man was looking at him unnervingly and took a few steps in so they were nearly face to face. Nakago was much taller than Tamahome remembered him.

"How did you know that?" his voice was sharp and low. He had forgotten that Taka was reading the book with Keisuke that night, but that was not where he had remembered it from.

"When I killed you," he said softly. "When I killed you, I saw. I saw your mother, I saw the girl, and I saw you... with the emperor."

"You... saw?" his voice still held an edge as he leaned forward, looking down at the shorter man. There were people out there who knew, but even Miaka had never asked details. She had never known that each night the emperor had come in and stroked his small, childish body, had licked away his tears, had slowly turned him to his stomach and fondled him before raping him. She knew that it had happened, but she didn't know how, she didn't know what he had done, how he had felt, and this man... this boy... had seen it.

Tamahome nodded slowly. "I didn't mean to bring up painful memories," he said quietly. "So the gates brought you here. Did you... change anything?"

Just as quickly as he had tensed, he stepped back again, crossing his arms in the most aloof way possible. "That is the odd thing. It seems that we have already been here. I had forgotten because it was so long ago, but Miaka spoke to me at the blue lake before she was ever in this world."

"A paradox?"

He nodded. "I believe that these gates are taking us where fate wills us to be, and that once we have done what we were meant to do, we will find Kaena."

"You're an awfully big believer in fate considering the things that have happened to you," Tamahome observed, not in a scoffing way, just as a statement. "Isn't it hard to think this happened for a reason? Isn't it hard to think that what happened in Kutou happened for a reason? Or what happened to your daughter?"

"If you believe that fate can laugh at you, you have to believe in it to begin with," he commented dryly. "And I never figured you for quite the cynic in that regard."

"I'm not saying I don't believe in fate or destiny or a plan... whatever it is, I just didn't think of you as that type," he retorted.

"Then we have miscalculated one another," the blonde replied, smirking.

The two stood there silently for a while. Tamahome turned away and looked out over the stream again. He believed in fate, he just didn't always like it.

"I'm going back," Nakago turned and headed for their makeshift camp.

"I'll stay here. I'll find you in the morning."

The former shogun nodded and walked back to the camp, leaving the young man to his own thoughts. This man was not like the man he had been tortured by in Kutou. Oh, he had his oh-so-charming way of getting under your skin and saying exactly the wrong thing at the worst time to make you feel terrible, but in his own way, it was obvious that the detached facade was just that; that he actually was capable of concern and caring. Though he had used his own safety as a guise to find him, he had actually made Tamahome feel a lot better. He never outright said that he wasn't the man he once had been, but Tamahome knew beyond a shadow of a doubt. Miaka definitely could have done worse... it was just so hard to see her and not be able to hold her, to kiss her, to love her and know she loved him back just as passionately. The young man sighed softly and sat down by the river, closing his eyes. Fate owed him big for this one.

Back at the palace, Nuriko was designated to heft the massive boxes of books from one end of the table to the other as Boushin and Xansho looked through them. He had looked through a few and realized that he couldn't really read their writing as easily as he once had, so he hoisted the massive boxes easily from the pile on the side of the room to the other. The physical labor was easy, but it helped him get his mind off of Hotohori a little. He didn't think the former emperor was dead, as he'd first thought, but he was definitely not on this plane of existance, and whatever that pain he had felt earlier was only a fraction of the pain Hotohori had experienced. A wave of nausea overtook him at the thought of that pain. It was as if he had seen evil, as if it had, just for the briefest moment, touched his very soul and burnt a huge, black hole into it. He knew in his heart that they were not dealing with ordinary evil, but the essence of evil. Darkness, depravity, terror, pain, and so much more. That was their enemy, not any mortal.

Boushin pushed another book aside, shaking his head. Oh, they had found tales of magical objects—there was a magical bo staff that was built to reach heaven, and a flying nimbus cloud, there were magical stones and cloaks of invisibility, but none of these things would do what they suspected was necessary to do what they thought was going to happen. But that was exactly the problem. They didn't know for sure what these bandits actually wanted to do, so they had no idea if what they were trying to find was right under their noses or in a different dimension altogether.

"What about this?" Xansho said to himself.

"Did you find something?" Nuriko leaned over the man's shoulder and Boushin lifted an eyebrow curiously.

"I found something, but I don't know if it corresponds in any way to our world. There's this legend here of a magical vase, although it can also be translated as bowl or chalice, I suppose... This vase or what have you, it's supposed to be a seal to hold an evil being. It is said that an evil sorcerer that granted wishes that destroyed the wisher was sealed into it, and that it was thrown into the wilderness."

"It kind of reminds me of a genie lamp," Nuriko said. "Except with one twisted genie inside. But if they're looking for this, why look in the cities? If it was thrown into the wilderness..."

Xansho responded, "Well, it says it was thrown into the wilderness, but that it has been protected by guardian spirits of a temple. Maybe they just heard about the temple part and decided to ransack the places where an object like this could be guarded, which would be..."

"Temples, castles, banks and treasuries," Boushin finished.

"Well, I've never heard of anything like that being guarded in our kingdom," Xansho said.

"Nor have I, but assuming this is what they're looking for, or something like it, where do you suppose it might be?"

"Shrines or other hidden places," Nuriko said. "But if they're hidden, how can we find it before they do?"

"Assuming this is what we're looking for," Xansho again doubted his suggestion. "Maybe we should keep looking."

"Where did this legend originate?" Boushin took the book from the other emperor and read. "This is a legend from Sairo. Perhaps we should contact Sairo and ask if they've heard of any such thing."

"Well, I have caravans read to go," Xansho said.

"My advisors would never let me go galavanting across the country..." Boushin shook his head. "Unless I had a body guard..." his eyes moved to Nuriko.

"I'm game, if you think this is really worth investigating."

"It's a magical object into which a soul can be placed... sounds about right to me," Boushin said. "But is there any way to contact that magician friend of yours? He might be able to give us more information."

Nuriko opened his mouth to call for Chichiri (it had worked before), and before he could even yell, Chichiri appeared, but he was not alone.

"I brought some friends, no da!" he smiled. Tumbling from his hat came Yui and Tomo.

Keisuke and Hani stared at the book in their hands.

"What just happened?" Hani asked, confused.

Keisuke read out loud in response. "Seiryu no Miko Yui and her Seishi Tomo were drawn into the Universe of the Four Gods..."

"Why did it take them and leave us? And why, for that matter, are people disappearing into this book! Lucy, you've got some 'splainin' to do!" she looked over the top of her glasses at her husband.

"Well... I suppose I should tell you a little more than I have about this thing," he laughed nervously.

Tetsuya pouted. "Why do I never get to go in?"

"This has happened before?" the woman asked. "Start talking."

"Yui, Tomo! What are you doing here?" Nuriko exclaimed, jumping up and hugging them both.

"Well, we were at your restaurant and one of the waiters mentioned that you hadn't been around for a while, so we went to find Hotohori, but Chiriko said he hadn't seen either of you. He said he thought Hotohori had been with Miaka recently. When nobody answered at her apartment, we found Keisuke, who was with Tetsuya and Hani. We decided to check out Miaka's apartment, and Keisuke has the spare key, so we went in and saw the book lying open on the table. We read about what happened, and then Chichiri popped his head out through the book and said we had to come, so we were dragged in, and here we are," Yui explained.

"Tomo's skills are needed," Chichiri explained.

"We wanted to ask you about this..." Xansho pointed to the legend about the soul container (for lack of a better word). "Do you think this might be what they're looking for?"

"I think that's exactly what they're looking for, and I have an idea of how to buy us some time to find it, hence Tomo. All we need to do is find the base of this syndicate, and the rest will be easy. Well, maybe not easy, but not difficult."

"So, then... what do we do?" Nuriko asked, not following.

"Are you suggesting that we find this syndicate and have Tomo trap them in an illusion so they think they've found the object, and have them go back to their lair. All he'd have to do is create an illusion of the world, and they would lead us right to their lair, and possibly Kaena, all the while we're actually looking for the thing so they can't get it?"

"You really are brilliant, Yui-san," Chichiri smiled kindly. "That's the gist of it."

"Tomo will need your help sustaining the illusion, because his powers aren't as mature as they once were. Nuriko and the emperors should find the artifact quickly and bring it to me. I must remain at Taiitsukun's palace to help guide Nakago and Miaka and Tamahome."

"Tamahome?!" three of them exclaimed.

"He's been resurrected," the monk explained. "But that is a story for another time. Godspeed!" With that, the holy man disappeared into his hat and the hat disappeared into itself.

"Well, this is unexpected," the Konan emperor looked around at the newcomers. "I am Boushin," he introduced. "And this is Fe Xansho, emperor of Kutou."

"Two people I never expected to see together," Tomo commented dryly. "I am Ryo Chuin, or Seiryu no Seishi Tomo, if you prefer. This is Yui, the Seiryu no Miko."

Yui was taken quite aback when the emperor of Kutou stood and bowed to her. "Miko, it is a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Nuriko... where did Hotohori go?" the illusionist asked curiously. "I expected him to be with you."

"He was... he... I'm not sure what happened to him. He was taken."

"Taken where?" Yui asked.

"Yui-san, if I knew that, I certainly wouldn't be here. But I have a feeling that if we find Kaena, we will find him as well."

"We should prepare to depart," Boushin stood. "If there is anything you need for your part of this, please let me know and I will have it prepared."

"All I need is a clam shell," the handsome Seiryu no Seishi said. "Preferably a magic one that will fit in the palm of my..." Tomo looked down at his hand and saw a shell appear. Chichiri's face was inside it smiling. "Shin!"

"I thought you could use this," the magician said and then waved, disappearing.

"Well, then I'd say we're ready to go," Yui determined. "Let's track down this syndicate."

All present company agreed and dispersed to prepare.

On another plane of existance, a man found in a vast field of the most sweet smelling flowers he had ever been near. The field was dappled with the purple flowers that smelled sweet like fruit, but subtle and tangy... something provocative. Hotohori thought that if he could bottle that smell it would be a top selling perfume. The man sat down in the field, unsure of how he got there. One moment he had been standing near the temple, and then he had blinked and ended up in the field of flowers. The man leaned back into the tall grass, feeling warmth on his face, smelling the sweet aroma of the field, and feeling absolutely happy, and as he rested there, the feeling grew and grew until he was crying tears of joy. It felt as if pure joy and love had wrapped itself around him. He knew that once it was over, he would never feel that joy again.

_Be still, my love..._ he heard, except not a voice, but a caress across his mind, a brief touch that left him shuddering in intense, pure pleasure. It wasn't sexual, it was the pleasure of knowing love in his soul. It touched him, it embraced him, and he wept, calling out to it, begging it not to leave him, but the harder he grasped, the more fleeting it became. Suddenly, the man became aware; a dawning of comprehension touched him and he turned his head, looking at one flower beside him. Unlike all the other flowers, this one was red, and it's sweet song drew him in. He looked at the silken petals and smelled the sweet, musky odor, and was suddenly reminded of someone.

_You have known love all your days..._ he shuddered as he felt the caress again. The knowledge that he had always known love, but that he had rejected it, had pushed it away, hit him with painful awareness. It was impossible to hide, especially from one's self, in this place. He looked at the flower, and became entranced. What exactly he saw, he wasn't sure, so he leaned more closely, staring intently at the yellow center. The Suzaku no Seishi felt a jolt like the beast god's power coursing through him, through his sword, when he touched the flower, and then he disappeared, leaving the field of flowers undisturbed once again.


	13. Chapter 12: Replay

[Chapter 12 - Replay

Miaka awoke the next morning and looked around. She felt her husband's warm body behind her and sighed. It must have been a dream. She twisted her body slightly and groaned in pain. Her back had been hurting her a little lately, usually just after she woke up. She chuckled to herself. Nakago, of course, had no pains or signs of aging because he continued to work out pretty regularly, but she had never been into exercise and her body was complaining loudly about that now. She wasn't used to the kind of strenuous activities they had been doing the past few days at all. Well, there was that one thing... she started to blush at the thought, feeling her beautiful husband's strong body against hers. She turned toward him and noticed that he had a very light bruise marring his fair skin. She touched it and he opened his eyes, looking startled and annoyed.

"Where did this bruise come from? Did I elbow you in my sleep?"

The annoyance faded from his eyes.

With impeccable timing, Tamahome appeared out of the woods and Miaka was up like a shot. She stared for a few seconds.

"Good morning," the Seishi said, looking uncomfortably at the two lying in each other's arms. Nakago's arm was still wound around Miaka's narrow waist. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, except Nakago managed to get this bruise somehow..."

"How indeed?" the man's deep voice rumbled through her body as it pressed against him, chuckling. Miaka shivered.

"I, uh..." Tamahome stuttered.

"Something wild and stupid attacked me while you were sleeping," Nakago said smoothly, not quite lying, not really telling the truth.

Tamahome's face turned red, first with anger, then with embarrassment. He mumbled something unintelligible.

"It probably thought you were one of them," Miaka said mildly.

Nakago glanced at Tamahome briefly, and the young seishi burst into laughter suddenly, surprised at Miaka's blatent teasing, but more at Nakago's subtle response. Miaka laughed as well and Nakago's lip turned up slightly in an amused smirk. After the shared moment of comedy, the situation felt a bit less tense and they began to gather up their things in a companionable silence, preparing to head out.

"We should head south toward Konan," Nakago decided. "At the very least, we know Saihitei is there."

"Isn't this the past, though?" Tamahome asked.

"Hmm... that's true, he is about seven years younger than me, so he would just be born," he considered. "In any case, Konan is a peaceful place, and..."

"You have a feeling," Miaka finished, standing between the two men.

He nodded, frowning. The warrior was certainly not the type of person to trust feelings over logic, but this was a very strong feeling. It had hit him the previous night as he was standing in the clearing watching Tamahome and it had only grown stronger. He knew that if they went that way, it would lead him closer to Kaena.

"Then it's settled," the woman said, shouldering her pack uncomfortably. Her face drew back in a painful wince as the heavy pack settled against her lower back.

"Let me carry that for you," the Suzaku seishi took a step toward her. "It looks heavy."

"It's not that bad," she smiled broadly.

Tamahome frowned. "I know that smile. Your back hurts. Let me carry it, or I'll just carry you."

The woman's smile faded. He did still know her inside and out. Slowly, she took off the burden and handed it to him. He took it cheerfully and started walking.

Nakago shouldered his own pack, and started after him. Miaka stood for a few moments, watching the two men she loved most walk off together. This situation was the definition of awkward. Nakago seemed characteristically unfazed, but Tamahome was covering obvious discomfort. It was clear that they had spoken last night, and Tamahome had punched her husband across the face (not that she blamed him; she often had the very same urge), which was where the bruise came from. She may have been born on a Tuesday, she thought to herself, but it wasn't last Tuesday. Shaking herself from her thoughts, she began to walk, running to catch up to the two men who were both in much better shape than her.

"Decided to join us?" her husband asked.

"Somebody has to keep an eye on you," she sniffed dramatically.

"Stop," Tamahome said suddenly.

Miaka blinked, thinking he meant they should stop their banter or being so cute in front of him, but he held up his arm to keep them from walking further ahead. "I sense something weird up there. It feels... wrong."

"Way to go, Magellan," the woman muttered.

"It's a gate," Nakago replied. "But something is strange about it."

"Should we...?"

"No," he said firmly. "But we need to go around it."

The trio headed around the vortex that they had nearly entered by accident. The gate seemed much larger than the ones they had encountered before, and it had a sort of magnetic draw to it. Twice, Tamahome had almost been pulled into it. They decided to make a wide arc around it and rest in a town that Tamahome knew was on one side of the vortex before heading to the capital.

"I don't like that gate," Miaka narrowed her eyes and stopped. "Every time I even look at it, I feel this urge to walk into it. It's like it's calling me..."

"All the more reason to avoid it entirely," the Shogun said, putting his arm over her shoulder and moving her along. "This gate is different."

"What's different about it?" Tamahome asked, not familiar with any of the gates, as he had just been dropped into their laps at their last stop.

Nakago shook his head. He wasn't able to fully verbalize exactly what was strange about it, he just knew it was. Miaka, too, was unable to fully explain, and she had always been better at verbalizing her feelings and instincts. "It's... twisted."

Miaka nodded in agreement, and Tamahome shrugged. Whatever it was, he would make it his mission to avoid the thing and to keep his traveling companions out of it. "Are there many of these gates? I don't remember anything like this from when I was here last, not that I can remember a ton about it before..." he looked at Miaka and then trailed off.

"They weren't here when we lived in the book," Nakago remarked. "This is a product of things that have occurred since we died in this world. Because of the way time is shifting and the way that the demons are ripping through the dimensions in order to find whatever it is they're looking for, the gates are appearing."

Nakago went on to explain in more detail about the apparent goal of the demons, and anything else he could think of that might be important. The two men spoke quietly, and didn't notice Miaka stop and waver until Tamahome plowed into her, sending her sprawling onto the ground.

"Thanks, Tamahome," she muttered, pushing herself up and sitting on her knees. "I'm starving. Can we stop for a while?"

Nakago shrugged and dropped his pack, kneeling down beside his wife and pulling out a canteen and some jerky and small cans of fruit. Miaka devoured a huge piece of jerky and two cans of fruit, chugging some water and sighing loudly. She was still hungry, but she would live until they got to the town they were looking for. Tamahome chewed thoughtfully on the jerky, looking between the two. They didn't act lovey dovey like he and Miaka always had, but he attributed that to age. What they did have was a quiet understanding. Nakago ate neatly, but quickly, and it was obvious he was hungry. Miaka, when she had stopped initially, hadn't looked nearly as pale as he'd seen her from hunger. It was almost as if she knew he was hungry and stopped because she knew he wouldn't until she couldn't go on. They sat close to each other, but didn't touch. He supposed that was for his benefit, and he thanked them both silently. But it wasn't just that... it was in the ways they exchanged meaningful glances. They seemed to have whole conversations just by quirked brows, half smiles, and narrowed eyes.

"I will be glad to leave this place," Tamahome said, expressing what they had all been thinking. It was just wrong in so many ways. It was the wrong time, it was a time Nakago would have cared to forget. It was the wrong place, because Kaena and their enemy didn't reside here. It was wrong because it just felt wrong. He thought that when they were in the right place they would know.

Nakago squinted up at the late morning sun, and then at the direction of the moss growing on the trees. That was strange... He glanced at his watch. His sense of time and his expensive Swiss watch told him it was still morning but the sun told him it was falling on late afternoon.

"Is something wrong?" the woman asked, her normally carefree eyes narrowing slightly.

"I am unsure. You," he leveled a finger at the younger man. "Keep an eye on her. I'll be right back."

"What's the problem?" the Suzaku no Seishi stood as Nakago walked toward the vortex.

"Nakago? What are you doing? Don't go in there, what if you can't come back out?" Miaka jumped up, voice rising sharply. She was worried. No, Tamahome thought, she was beyond worried. She started to run toward him, but Tamahome caught her arm.

"Wait," he said. "He knows what he's doing."

"I'm not going to let my husband run off into that thing! Let me go!" she yelled, jerking herself from his grasp, but by the time she was free, he had already entered. "Nakago!"

She began to run toward the swirling vortex and stopped when Nakago emerged, looking just as bewildered as her.

"You came back out," Tamahome stated.

"Yes, from the same point that I entered. That would not be odd, had I turned around. But I didn't," he turned and looked at the mass. It hung over the ground like a black and grey mist, swirling, darker toward the center. "I never changed direction. However, the compass on my timepiece did turn around just before I walked out."

"What does that mean?" Miaka asked.

"I believe we have already entered the vortex. We are in a different dimension."

"How long have we been in it?" Tamahome asked, walking into the gate and stumbling back out before he knew what hit him. "It doesn't seem like we can get out."

"Judging by the difference between what time and should be, and what time the sun says it is, I would guess that we've been here for three or four hours," the Shogun estimated.

"It looks exactly the same," Miaka marvelled.

"But it doesn't feel the same. We've all been feeling it since this morning, when I almost fell in. Remember? We all felt disoriented. Except I must have actually been pulled in, and so were you when you came to pull me back," Tamahome cursed. "Then this is my fault."

"Don't be stupid, we were all drawn in at the same time. You were probably just a little closer to the center, so you felt the most disoriented," the blonde responded.

Tamahome frowned.

"So where are we?" Miaka asked, looking around. "It seems that there's a town that way, judging by the path. Should we head in, or should we try to get out?"

"I don't think there's any getting out," the blonde remarked, throwing a stone into the gate only to have it fly right back toward him. He caught the stone and dropped it on the ground.

"We should head toward the town, if nothing else than to ask where we are. It still looks like the border of Kutou and Konan, but that obviously means nothing," Nakago decided.

"There's something wrong with this place... this is definitely still the ShiJinTenshiSho, but it feels dead," the woman commented. "It feels like it did when Konan and Kutou were battling and everybody was dying."

There was a moment of discomfort as the three realized once again that they really had been at odds then. Tamahome cleared his throat. "Well, we should investigate," he dropped his gaze from Nakago and Miaka, who were obviously sharing their own thoughts privately.

"Tamahome, wait," Miaka ran up after him. "You know he's not like that anymore, right?"

"I know," he replied quietly. "It doesn't make this any less strange for me. I don't remember everything. I don't know if I will, either. I have big holes. I remember the times with you in the book, and I remember some of the time in your world... a little bit after Nakago came back, but not a lot. Mostly, I remember killing him. I remember Hotohori and Nuriko, and... everybody dying. I know you're married. I know... that you love him, but it's just strange."

"But you haven't punched him again since you found us," she said helpfully.

"I..." he was caught. He laughed a little. "No, I haven't."

"I know you're trying, I just want you to remember who the good guys are. My daughter... our daughter, is somewhere in this tangle of dimensions. He loves her. He loves her more than his own life and he would do anything for her. Just remember that."

"I will, Miaka," he smiled and then looked back, expecting to see the blonde there. When he wasn't, the young man stopped, grabbing Miaka's arm. "Stop."

"What? Where...?" she looked around. The scenery had completely changed, and Nakago was nowhere to be seen.

Nakago was just as surprised as they were to find himself somewhere else. Moments before they had been at least five miles from the little town ahead. Now he was standing at the broken down town gate, and Miaka and Tamahome were not in sight. He could vaguely sense them, but they were far away. They were, at least, together. He could tell that Tamahome was holding onto her because their auras were touching. Good. The boy would keep her out of danger until they reunited. He started to head toward the source of Miaka's distinctive chi when he felt another very familiar chi. Miaka's.

"What the hell?" he said involuntarily, looking toward the city. One Miaka was fine, and with Tamahome. She was confused, but not afraid. The other chi that felt almost exactly like his wife's was closer and terrified. It was moving quickly, and toward him. The little devil on his shoulder told him it wasn't his business, and that he should find his Miaka, but... if this was indeed a different dimension it would be entirely possible for there to be another. There was obviously more than one of him in a dimension. And Miaka had saved him. The little Miaka angel on his shoulder urged him to find the woman and help her, so he began to move quickly toward the source of the painfully familiar chi.

"You owe me," he said to no one, walking into the town. He saw a group of men, a gang, and they seemed to be standing around a woman and knocking her around, laughing and pawing at her clothes. He edged up into the group from behind, pushing his way toward the front. She was wearing her school uniform. Her middle school uniform.

The men around him didn't seem to know one another well. By their dress it appeared that they were from various gangs and had happened to find a delicate young thing to torment and had momentarily put aside their differences to watch. Well, he wasn't going to allow that.

One of the men pushed her against the wall and reached under her skirt. She screamed and struggled, but she was bruised and weak from the beating she had taken. It didn't look like they had raped her, but she was crying and terrified. His first instinct was to rush in and blast all these men, but they were almost all armed and any blast powerful enough to hurt such a large number of men would surely kill her. Getting an idea, he pushed his way forward and grabbed the guy groping her by the scruff of his shirt, tossing him back while grabbing her arm. If she ran, they would chase her. He had to get her a distance away before she could run.

"What's your problem, man?" the dark haired fiend growled, glaring up from his newfound seat on the ground. "I saw her first, she's mine first."

"She's mine," he pulled his sword a little, flashing the blade. "You can have her next. Unless you want to try to take her from me...?"

The man growled and made an obscene gesture, but backed up. Nakago pulled her by the arm around a corner.

"Where you going?" one man shouted, running after.

"Getting a little privacy," he said, pulling her in the doorway of an abandoned building. He had seen through the doorway that there was a room with a bed. He had a plan and just hoped it would work. There were so many of them. How many of these men had planned to rape this poor younger version of his wife? How many already had?

"Feel free to wait outside," he called to the gang who moved toward the door of the building. There was a pretty clear view of the room from the window, but he had to be far enough away from them to tell her what was going on. Damn this world. He hated it already.

He glanced down at her. She was still struggling to get away from him, sobbing desperately and pushing away from him with all her pathetic might. He jerked her into the abandoned building and closed the door. He saw the men's eager faces outside the window. He threw her on the floor where they could only see her from the right angle.

"Please... please don't..." she sobbed wretchedly, looking up at this powerful, terrifying man.

"Be quiet, bitch," he said loudly, climbing over her. He straddled her, pushing her hands against the floor, bringing his face to her ear.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Miaka. I'm trying to find a way out of this without getting us both killed."

"How do you know my name?" she gasped softly. "Who are you?"

"I'm going to take your underwear off and toss it out that window so they think I'm hurting you. Once I do that I want you to scream as loud as you can. I will not harm you, I promise," his ice blue eyes met hers. A few tears slipped from her huge hazel eyes, but she nodded. He grabbed her underwear and pulled it down, tossing it out the open window. He jerked her upright and moved between her legs. "Now."

The woman screamed impressively, obviously not much of an act, as he moved his clothed body against her. He pulled her limp body against his. "Just keep screaming for little while longer. When I tell them to come in for their turns, they'll leave the window. It's not a far leap, jump from it. I'll find you once they're taken care of."

"You can't possibly face them all," she whispered and then shrieked convincingly. "And who are you?!" she demanded again.

"I'll explain later, just do as I tell you, stupid girl," he growled. Yes, Miaka had been just like this when she was younger. Curious to a fault, always needing to be rescued. He much preferred his more mature wife, but he couldn't leave her to be violated, even if it wasn't his Miaka.

He continued to move her back and forth for a few more minutes, making a show out of enjoying her, and finally he dropped her. She glared when she hit her head on the dusty wooden floor, but began to fake weep rather loudly.

"She's all yours, come around the front," he stood up, smirking and pushing his slightly sweaty hair out of his face. The men eagerly scrambled into the door and Miaka stood and jumped out the window, picking up her underwear as she hit the ground and running. A few of the men saw her and began to follow, but Nakago burst into action immediately. The first group that jammed through the door, he sent a lightening fast bolt of energy into. They dropped like flies. The next group met his sword. He didn't usually intentionally kill his enemies these days, but, as far as he was concerned, these men were swine and didn't deserve to live. The final group fell as he rushed through them, bowled over by his glowing aura. He picked off the two chasing Miaka with small blasts from behind, and then came up behind her, grabbing her arm and taking an abrupt turn down a different street. The ones he hadn't killed were sure to follow.

They ran for a while more until Miaka was too out of breath to continue. She was running and crying at the same time, which was probably pretty strenuous. She stopped and leaned against the wall of a nearby building, pulling her panties back on and sinking to the ground, sobbing. He knelt down beside her, touching her to make sure she wasn't injured. She recoiled violently, looking up at him in fear. He didn't blame her, but it reminded him painfully of those times that first time in the book with Miaka where she had jumped and screamed if he got too close.

Believing he could take the stragglers that might still be following them without endangering her, he sunk down next to her. She rested her face against her knees and began to sob wretchedly.

"Did any of them rape you before I arrived?" he asked quietly, looking down at her shaking form.

She shook her head. She was fine, physically, except for some bruises from where they had slapped her around, but mentally she was terrified and couldn't calm herself.

"What the hell were you doing alone in a place like this, anyway?" he asked fiercely, a little angry at her stupidity. Hadn't Yui been in a similar situation...? Where was Yui, anyway?

"Tell me how you got here. You are obviously not from this world," he said to her.

"Yui, my friend, and I were at the library... we opened a book and got pulled here. We met this boy with the character for oni on his head, but then we lost him. We got separated..."

"Did you become the Suzaku no Miko?" he asked, hoping to bypass the story that he already knew and get to when it was different.

"How did you know that? How do you know who I am?" she asked.

"That is a long story. I will tell you later. For now, tell me what happened. Did Yui summon Seiryu and get eternal life for her seishi Nakago?" he guessed, thinking that maybe that was the difference. It would make sense. If he now ruled this world as he had been before he died, this world was screwed.

Miaka nodded and began to sob. "The god beast devoured her. Nakago killed the emperor and waged war against Konan. They're all dead. Everybody is dead," she sobbed. "It's terrible! I was trying to get to Kutou. I thought that maybe if I could summon Suzaku I could seal his power..."

She looked up at him. Why did he not find this unbelievable? In fact, he looked an awful lot like Nakago. His hair was shorter, and he looked a little older, but maybe... She shrieked suddenly. "You're him! YOU'RE HIM!!!" She freaked out and started to run, but he grabbed her arm.

"Stop, stop screaming you fool, you're advertising to everybody within ten miles where we are!" he growled at her, shaking her a little. She stopped screaming, but stared at him in horror. The more she looked, the more obvious it was. "Y-you're him... w-why did you save me from those gangsters?"

"I'm not the Nakago from your world. I know who you are because I'm from your world. If you weren't so busy screaming you would notice that I'm wearing dockers and a Swiss watch," he said tersely. Yes, she was definitely younger and dumber.

"But you are him," she whispered.

"Yes, but I'm from a different dimension. I'm not him, but I am. Do you understand?"

She both shook and nodded her head. It sort of almost made sense, but it was hard to wrap her mind around it. "Are you going to kill me?" she whispered.

"No," he stood up. She took an involuntary step back as his great height soared over her, but she didn't run. He continued to hold her arm, but gently. "We should walk if we're going to discuss this. We don't want to be caught off guard. Now listen to me, because this is very complicated. I am Nakago, but not the one you know. In the dimension I come from, you, Miaka came to the ShiJinTenshiSho, but instead of getting power, Miaka summoned Suzaku and sealed my power. Tamahome killed me."

"So you're... dead?"

"Not quite. I was reborn into your world along with the rest of my your seishi. We met again when you were eighteen and ended up back in the book together, as allies. I'll spare you the details, because there are many, but you and I are married."

"WHAT?!" she shrieked, jerking her hand away successfully. "I don't believe you!"

"I know things about you that you probably don't even know yet," he smirked a little, thinking of a certain mole that she never noticed until he pointed it out. "I know that you're very ticklish, for example."

"Everybody knows that," she countered.

"I know you have an errogenous spot right here," he reached around and touched her behind the ear. She squealed in pleasure and surprise, grabbing her ear.

"And you have a mole right here," he pointed but didn't touch.

"I do not!" she gasped, looking up at him in disbelief.

"You do, but you didn't know about it until I pointed it out," he allowed himself to smirk a little.

"So we've... you... and me...?" she blushed hotly.

"We are married. We have a daughter. Do the math, Miaka."

Miaka's face flushed to the roots of her hair and she looked at the ground as they walked. "But..." she looked up at him. "You're so much older than me."

"When the other Miaka met me, I was the same age as the Nakago of this world, obviously. She is about ten years younger than me. She's in her thirties now."

"So you're... from a different dimension, and the future?" she asked, confused. "So why are you here?"

"If I knew that, I would not be here," he muttered. "Besides, I should be asking you the same. Why do you not find the book or go to Taiitsukun to return to your world?"

"I couldn't go to Taiitsukun without Chichiri," she said softly. "I don't know how to get there. And our ShiJinTenshiSho... you... Nakago has it."

"Perfect," he said, looking at the quickly darkening sky. "I wonder where Miaka is."

"I'm..." she looked up at the strikingly handsome older man who had saved her purity and her life. He was obviously not thinking of her with that look of fierce longing on his face. "Will you stay with me until we get to Kutou?"

"Yes," he replied. As it turned out, his Miaka was in the direction of Kutou, or where he assumed Kutou was. She was at least a day's travel away from him, but she was still with Tamahome, which meant she was safe for the time being. Nakago walked along with this child-version of his wife, understanding by her determination and newly budded beauty how Tamahome had fallen in love with her. He would keep her safe until she got home.


	14. Chapter 13: Nexus

Chapter 13 – Nexus

Miaka gaped when she saw the "emperor" of Kutou. "Nakago!" she said suddenly. Tamahome hadn't left her side since they were found and brought to the palace. She had assumed it would be Xansho or the old emperor. To find her husband, although quite a bit younger, on the throne, had been a shock.

"You know of me, then," he said, standing up, his long blonde hair shining in the brightly lit throne room. His eyes flashed. "This is Tamahome, Suzaku no Seishi," he looked at the boy.

"But I killed you."

"You killed me?" he stared. "I killed you!"

"Obviously, we are both wrong," he chuckled low in his throat. Miaka shivered. This was not her Nakago. He was dressed in the armor of Kutou, his eyes dark and filled with hate. No, this was not hers.

"This is my son," Miaka said thinking fast. "Though he does resemble the Suzaku no Seishi Tamahome. My boy's name is Taka."

"Taka? You look too young to be this boy's mother."

"Why thank you!" she exclaimed. "But I looked younger than I am, and he looks older. I assure you that the Seishi Tamahome died already."

Tamahome looked at her oddly. Well, she wasn't lying about that, at least. "Mother, what should we do?" he asked significantly.

"Supress your energy and keep your mouth shut," she said between her teeth.

"And you," the younger Nakago said, moving toward them. "What is your name?"

"Mi... ka. Mika," she said with a smile.

"You are familiar as well. You look like the Suzaku no Miko, although far older."

"Thanks," she muttered, annoyed. She didn't think she looked that much older!

"Why are you here?"

"We were curious... we had heard that the emperor was overthrown, but I wanted to see for myself. Is that true?" she asked.

"I now command this country," he replied. "And soon this world."

"Well, good for you. We'll be going now," Miaka said, beginning to walk toward the great doors. Immediately rows of guards blocked her way and she cursed.

"Wait," his deep voice made her shudder. He was right behind her. "I find you to be of interest. Take this boy to the dungeons," he commanded. "Have the woman brought to my room."

Well, he was certainly the same in any lifetime, she thought with a laugh. Miaka could feel Tamahome's power growing and gave him a sharp look that obviously said to save it for later. "May I have a word with my son first, your highness?" she asked, bowing low.

Nakago nodded, a dark smirk on his young face.

"What are you thinking, Miaka?" he whispered.

"Let me go with him. I'll talk to him. Yes, I realize he's not the same as my husband, but I'm fairly fluent in his language, and besides, I know a lot about him, I could pretend to be a prophet or something. I'll call you if I need you."

"But he wants you to...!" he couldn't even say it.

"Honey, I'm married to a version of Nakago. I know how to get him to stop if I need to. This Nakago is crazed and violent, but he's not without mercy, and I know exactly how to play on that."

"Well... all right," he replied softly. "I'll be there in a flash if you need me."

Tamahome was dragged off to the dungeon, pretending to kick and fight, and Miaka was led out into the palace. She had been here several times and knew where she was being taken. She was fairly confident in her ability to postpone what he wanted through conversation, but she wasn't entirely without her worries. She looked around the room when she was pushed inside his chambers.

"What are you really doing in Kutou, Miaka?" he smirked.

"Ahh... hmm... so you know?" she resigned.

"Yes," he said to her, walking toward her and looking down at her. She lifted her eyes to meet his gaze. In that brief moment she saw everything that he had been when she knew him, and knew she would have to stop him one way or another. "How did you come to be here? You are obviously not the same fifteen year old brat that I have been dealing with."

"You're correct," she smirked. "My name is Gi Miaka. I'm thirty-one years old."

"Gi?" he was taken aback.

"Yes," she smirked again. "You, Nakago, also known as Gi Ayuru... you are my husband."

Nuriko was having a terrible time of it. As much as he loved Yui and Tomo, they were driving him crazy with questions about Hotohori. Yui, at least, had the sense to keep her mouth shut for the most part, but Tomo kept asking about the status of their relationship, and whether or not he was broken up by Hotohori's disappearance. Nuriko understood that it was only out of caring that he concerned himself, but Hotohori was the last thing he wanted to think about right now. Every time he thought of what might have happened to him, his heart clenched a little. He burned with a bizarre mix of love and hate; hate for the man who refused to love him, but love, because he couldn't help it. He had been glad to leave the awkward questions behind at the palace. Tomo had been placed in charge of his facade creation, and Yui was there to aid him with whatever remaining powers she had. Chichiri had somehow reawakened those powers, at least to some degree.

Boushin and Xansho had both decided to go to Sairo "incognito" which was ridiculous. Both of the young men were stunningly beautiful and attracted a lot of unwanted attention from both men and women. People would point and whisper whenever they passed through the town. Mercifully, they had left their entourage of guards at the palace, but in the end it probably would have been safer to have a conspicuous entourage than it was to have these two beautiful examples of the male species. The only people unaware of how much they stood out were the emperors themselves. They, at least, had the good grace to leave the subject of Hotohori alone. Although Boushin was concerned, he did not know the man well, and assumed that he and Nuriko had had some kind of relationship, so he carefully avoided the subject. Nuriko was going out of his mind with worry, in some ways, because he didn't know what was happening to his friend/sometimes lover, but something also told him that it would be all right.

"Do you think we'll make the next town by nightfall?" Xansho asked nervously. He was, by far, the youngest of them, and the least experienced with adventuring. Boushin had Hotohori's mettle and seemed to care very little for his personal safety, as long as his country was protected. In some ways, the man's resemblance was painfully clear, but in others they were like night and day. For example, the man was quite shy about his quickly-becoming-apparent (to Nuriko) crush. Hotohori had known what he wanted in the book and had gone for it, and likewise in the life they knew now, he knew what he didn't want and rejected it. Nuriko sullenly kicked a rock, which soared upwards of fifty feet before descending and nearly crushing a family of birds. The mother bird looked outraged.

Boushin responded out of politeness, but their arrival was really the last thing on his mind. "If not by nightfall then shortly after. The couriers have gone ahead to request an audience with the emperor of Sairo, so by tomorrow evening we should be there, if we keep pace."

"Do you think we'll be attacked by bandits, or... what if those demons try to get us...?"

"Don't worry," Nuriko assured in a fatherly manner. "Bandits would be stupid to attack you with me around, and besides, the mortal henchmen will all be nicely ensconced in Tomo's illusion by now. The demons... well, if that happens we'll play it by ear, but they are probably pretty occupied trying to keep Kaena under control." He laughed a little, but it was hallow.

They continued on for another few hours until dusk settled over the horizon and they entered the town. They found an inn there, just on the Sairo side of the border, but there was only one room. Nuriko volunteered immediately to take the floor, but the emperors looked at one another warily. Neither could say 'I am the emperor, I deserve the bed' although they clearly both wanted to use that trump card.

"We can share," Xansho suggested.

Boushin shook his head and agreed to the floor. They fell asleep like they hadn't dozed in years, but were awoken late in the night by a suspicious gliding sound along the floorboards of the hall. It was disconcerting because they could clearly hear the sounds of voices, but there were no steps, only that bizarre gliding. Nuriko awoke from a dream like a ressurection and grabbed the two men, flinging them both out the window. They fell abruptly, angrily sputtering as they hit the brush outside. Nuriko jumped after them, and the room filled with a piercing shriek and blinding white light. The inn began to shake and collapse. Nuriko grabbed them both and ran to the stables to fetch their horses just as the inn imploded into itself.

"So much for avoiding demons," the strong seishi panted as they dashed away.

"How did you know what would happen?" Boushin asked breathlessly, riding beside him. Xansho was looking too pale and shaken to speak.

"Hotohori told me."

Kaena ate the meager rations provided to her and snuggled up against Hotohori again. The things that came to see her were not human, and she knew they were evil, but she was hungry. Two of the beings came into the cell and pulled her off of Hotohori. She shrieked when they touched her, but they didn't hold her long. One pulled a sword and was ready to kill Hotohori for keeps, but the girl's anguished cry distracted him.

"Don't hurt Hotohori-san! He keeps me company!" she began to wail.

"He's a vegetable, and he has outlived his usefulness," one creature said. "We thought he was the damn emperor, turns out he's just a warrior. Who needs that kind of ticking timebomb hanging around?"

"Please!" she shrieked, throwing herself across his chest again. "I'll do anything!"

The things looked at each other, their empty bodies moving stiffly. "We could use this," one said.

"We should ask the boss before we end him," the other agreed, and they left. Kaena wept into the man's chest. They couldn't take him away, he wasn't done helping yet.

In heaven, or where ever the hell he was (he laughed at this thought inside his head), Hotohori found himself in a series of interesting situations. He was simultaneously watching Kaena, in her cell, protecting his prone body, and Nakago and Miaka's wayward journey, as well as Nuriko, the emperor of Kutou, and his own son. He was most interested in the journey of Nuriko and company. Nakago and Miaka were a force to be reckoned with, and he grudgingly knew that the blonde man would sooner die than allow anything to happen to his wife. With Tamahome now there, she was twice as protected, so he mostly ignored their winding path through the dimensions. There was nothing that could be done about Kaena just now, except to comfort her when she began to get too upset. She knew he wasn't in his body, but she also knew there was a difference between not being in the body and being dead, and he was far from dead right now, although he imagined if he didn't return to his body sooner or later it would die without him. No, touched as he was by the girl's fierce protection of her godfather (one of many), he was most interested in Nuriko.

In heaven, or limbo, or whatever he was in, it was impossible to hide from oneself. He knew what he felt for Nuriko was real—had known it for years. He had known there had always been a person he was looking for, even when he was a boy, even before the memories came back, but after he had reuinted with Miaka, he thought it was her. As he had before. What was the saying about making the same mistakes again and again? He was sure there was more than one, because he had made the same mistakes enough times for four lifetimes. He knew that it wasn't Miaka, she had had Tamahome, and then she had had Nakago. He admitted to himself that part of his jealousy toward Nakago was because he had always thought he would be the second choice—if he wasn't the one, that at least if something ever happened to Tamahome, he would be there to care for her. But then, Miaka had never needed someone to care for her—she needed somebody to care for, and Hotohori didn't need that at all. Nakago needed it more desperately than even he knew and what Hotohori needed was equality. He had deference, because of his position, both as emperor and now as a political power house in Japan, and he had respect, he had fear from some, even outright infatuation. Miaka had never seen him as a title or a position or really anything aside from Hotohori, and that was probably what so deceived him. He thought finally, here is somebody who sees me as I see myself! But failed to realize that Miaka saw everybody only as who they are and can be, not as who they were, not as who they appear to be. That was why she so stripped him of his allusions, and clearly that was why Nakago was so helpless to her. The difference was that Nakago needed her. What she gave to him was only what she gave to everybody—but she gave Nakago forgiveness, love, fire, and passion, above and beyond what she had ever given him, or even Tamahome. It was Nuriko that ever gave him all those things, and only him. He had seen the man fall head over heels time and time again in their youth—for they had known each other long ago, even before they remembered. He had seen him struggle with himself, he had seen him infatuated, and Nuriko had seen him in the same ways. But it was always Nuriko's bed to which Hotohori returned, his embrace which he sought, his comfort which he required. Nuriko needed him in the way that Nakago needed her. Hotohori was, after all, the caregiver for a country. He had practice at caring for those who needed him.

But to admit his love for Nuriko would be disastrous. Nuriko was openly gay and so easily diffused hostility that it was ridiculous. Hotohori was not infectious like Nuriko, he was quiet and somber, and he had his political career to consider. If the public found out, he would be a laughingstalk. Homosexuality was more accepted in Japan than it was in Konan, but not much, and certainly not in the political world. So he rejected the man again and again, hoping he would find somebody who could give him the open affection he deserved. But that was unfair to them both, and he knew that. Watching that scene in the hotel room play out was horrifying. He had seen them check in—the demons had been following them for some time. Clearly, they had captured him thinking he was Boushin, but now they knew he was not, and they were after the man to get what they wanted (how he wished he could tell them where it was!), so they followed and waited. And then they had all gone to sleep. He saw them, those hideous creatures like the one that captured him, surrounding the room, coming quietly down the hall, poised to touch them like he had been touched, not until their spirits retreated but until they were devoured. The idea of that beautiful body of Nuriko's owned and operated by that grotesque excuse for a soul... it made him weep. And so he had touched the man, through the weird dream-bubble from which he was observing him, and brushed his head. He couldn't form words, because he had no body, but his consciousness brushed Nuriko's and all it indicated was 'get up, leave now.' His urgency was clearly felt, for the man was up in a flash, waking the others and throwing them to safety, disappearing into the night again. He sat down hard and turned his attention to the scene in Konan, the other scene which he was able to observe, and hoped Yui would be clever again, and find what was so close, yet so far away.

Although their trip had been thus far unadventurous, Yui had a foreboding feeling that even though the action seemed elsewhere that they were right in the heart of it. Tomo was concentrating fierecely on his illusion, but he had discovered that trapping demons was impossible, so all he had done is slow down the enemy's mortal forces, which were fairly useless. He had asked Yui to contact Chichiri, but they had been unable to get his attention, and so he continued on his seemingly useless facade. He watched the mortals wander in a seemingly random direction. It seemed as though these soldiers, or whatever they were, actually had no orders other than to guard one particular fortress and aimlessly go from town to town turning over banks and treasuries. After they had located a few of them in the city, they had trapped them and followed them to their virtual home base, where Tomo had proceeded to trap them all.

Yui looked over Tomo's shoulder with interest, touching him to assist in the endeavor, making a connection through which their energy was transferred and recycled. The strain of the task was taking its toll on the normally beautiful man. His face was thin and ragged, his eyes hallow, and even his long, shiny hair had lost its luster. She wiped his forehead and squeezed his shoulder. "What do you suppose that fortress is?" she asked, looking into the shell. It was strange watching the scene play out in front of her, in Tomo's hand.. "And where?"

"It looks like Konan-koku," he said wearily. "Doesn't it? But there's no place like that in this city."

"If only we could see inside," Yui sighed. "We could at least see what it is they're guarding. Whatever it is, it's important."

"We can see inside," he said to her. "What the illusion does is trap the person in a world that exactly resembles theirs, but that I can control at my whims. I can create people and things, or I can leave it exactly as the person knows it. I have left this world alone. It is simply a matter of psychically manipulating the person trapped. I have all of their memories and everything they ever knew trapped in this, and all I have to do is give them motivation for revealing more to me."

"That's really rather remarkable," she commented. "Can you order somebody to go and check on whatever they're guarding?"

"Of course. In fact, I would like you to see first hand what is going on. May I?"

"All right," she said reluctantly. It wasn't that she didn't trust Tomo—he was her seishi and they had become fast friends since he regained his memory. The young man was flambouyant, happy, theatrical, and kind. He was kind of like a brother to her, actually. But what she didn't trust was her ability to gain access to the fortress. "What if they recognize me?"

"They'll only see what I want them to see," he said. "Just tell them vaguely that you want them to check on something. I'll do the rest with my illusions."

Yui nodded and Tomo's face strained as he trapped her, too, inside the illusion. She felt a coming awareness and brief disorientation, looking around. She was inside the clam shell now. She began to walk, trying to explore her surroundings a bit, and almost immediately ran into a soldier, who nodded at her in passing. She nodded back, looking puzzled. Shouldn't people be stopping at the sight of a stranger? She looked down at her hands and gasped in surprise. They were the hands of a man! Large and strong, and much like the other guards she had seen. If she had to guess she'd say she was a man of middle age, a soldier by dress, somebody of higher rank (at least by whatever kind of rank system these people employed). Good job, Tomo, she thought, and was amused to hear his gracious reply inside her head. "I do apologize for the form," he said to her. "If you walk a few more feet and turn left you'll head to the antechamber. People there are standing guard for intruders. You should find one that looks young and ask him to check on the prisoners. I have a hunch..."

"Kaena?" she gasped out loud, eliciting a strange look from a passerby.

"And possibly Hotohori-san," he responded. "Maybe others."

"And after I ask?"

"Follow him."

And so she did. It was easier than expected. The man, young and inexperienced, was eager to help his new employer. She ascertained as they walked that this man was a mercenary—most of the mortal men were, in fact, and had simply been hired on to guard this palace with their lives. She discovered this when the man began asking about their pay and when they would be getting time off. Apparently, the young man had a daughter he wanted to see.

"I'm not sure, son," she hoped she sounded convincing. "When the job is done, we'll take some leave. For right now, I want to check that the prisoners are safe. I've heard some nasty rumors about betrayal..."

"Never!" he cried. "A mercenary's loyalty may be bought, but that makes it all the more binding! Where have you heard such things?"

"Murmurs from the ranks. That's why I chose you. I trust you, son."

"I'm glad to hear that, sir! What would you have me do?" he sounded like an eager puppy.

"For now, I only want to see the prisoners to know that they are unharmed. I would also like you to keep an eye on them personally. Can you do that for me?"

He nodded eagerly. "But sir, I don't have a key," he said. "Do you?"

Yui froze. "Your pocket," she heard in her head. This was Tomo's illusion, built on the memories and thoughts of the people inside it. Surely, someone must know what waited inside that cell. What if nobody did? Would the cell be empty?

"I do," she said. "I wanted you to come so we could discuss the matter."

The man nodded slowly, trying to process this information. The man seemed a little slow. He had an open, honest face, and the build of a warrior, but inside he was really rather innocent. "So, after I leave, can you keep an eye on them? I just want to know that they are safe. We're mercenaries, not murderers, right?"

"Right, sir," he agreed. Yui turned and opened the door, fumbling with the key briefly, as she tried to move hands that were not her own. The door creaked open and one of the occupants stirred, looking up.

"Yui-okaasan!" the girl cried.

Yui was shocked, and extremely confused. It was Kaena, and Hotohori (although his body was limp and lifeless—dead?), but in this illusion she was not Yui, but some nameless soldier.

"Who is Yui?" the young man asked suspiciously.

"I don't know," she shook her head. "The child is clearly dilusional. Leave us for a moment."

"Sir?"

"Just for a moment, wait outside and keep watch for traitors," she ordered firmly. The young man saluted and stepped out, closing the door behind him.

"Yui-okaasan!" Kaena tried to stand, but was chained to the floor. Yui knelt down in front of her, her manly form much larger next to the girl than she was used to.

"Kaena-chan, are you all right? Have they hurt you?" she hugged the girl, who clung to her even though she was in an unfamiliar body. "Tomo, how did this happen?"

"I trapped everybody within the fortress in the illusion. How she sees you, I do not know."

"Your mother and father are searching for you. Do you know what this place is or how to find it?" she questioned.

"It's somewhere else," she cried softly. "Hotohori-san says it's in Konan, but not. He says to go to his room."

Yui tilted her head in confusion. "Hotohori... is he... dead?" she asked cautiously.

"No! But he went away..." she said quietly.

"So he is, then?" she murmured.

"No!" she shouted, frustrated. "Hotohori-san isn't dead, he's just not here. He keeps me company."

Yui didn't know what to make of this statement, but she looked at the former emperor's body. He seemed to be breathing, but his body was still and cold.

"He'll come back when his job is done. He says to look in his room. He can't hold this world much longer, you better go," the girl said, looking at the walls, which had begun to warp and waver ever so slightly.

"She's right, I'm pulling you out. I'm not strong enough to hold it," Tomo's disembodied voice reverberated around the room.

"Kaena, we'll find you, all right? Don't worry. I promise we won't let anything else happen to you." Yui stood up and found herself slammed back into her own body. Tomo collapsed as she returned, the shell falling to the ground in pieces.

"It was too much, I couldn't hold such a large illusion," he panted. He was clammy and shaking. Yui helped him up.

"I think we gained some important information, if nothing else," she said to him.

"After I recover my strength a bit, let's go to Hotohori's room and see what we can find," he said to her. "At the very least, we know she's alive."

Back in reality, Kaena awoke to find herself in exactly the same place as before, but this place was real, and the other had not been. She curled up, feeling cold and very lonely, and cried. She felt a caress on her forehead and looked up. She could see a thin echo of Hotohori standing above her.

"You did well, Kaena. They will know what they need to know to find you, and what we're all looking for."

"I feel the bad people getting closer," she whispered. The door slammed open again and the soul-less creatures returned. Hotohori stepped back.

"Don't hurt Hotohori-san," she said fiercely, her blue eyes an odd echo of her mother's determination and her father's coldness. A violet shield appeared over her suddenly, protecting her body and Hotohori's. "I won't let you."

The creatures laughed at her and tried to step through her shield, thinking it would be weak and useless. They frowned when they could not get through. Dark energy cracked like a hundred whips in every direction as dark power met Kaena's pureness. They pushed and forced but could not break through.

"Damn it all," one growled. "We may need the demon lord himself for this."

"He won't be happy," the other replied.

"He's never happy."


	15. Chapter 14: Mirror

Chapter 14 - Mirror

"You lie," he hissed to her. "Why would I stoop to marry such a pathetic woman as my own foe?"

"I can prove it!" she said to him. "I know what happened to you after Taria died. I know about the emperor. I know why you wanted to gain strength—for revenge, to repay the emperor and the people of Kutou for what they did to the Hin."

The man stared at her and then backhanded her. He knelt over her. "I don't know who told you about that..."

"You," she wiped the tears that had gathered in the corner of the eye he had smacked. "You told me. You told me that the only way you could live with what the emperor did to you was to turn cold, to hide who you are. I know you loved Taria, and I know you didn't mean to kill your mother. I know you couldn't bring yourself to rape me in Hokkan..." she said softly. "That's why."

He grabbed her wrists and shoved them down, pinning her bodily to the floor. "How dare you?" he whispered, his blue eyes dark and twisting with hatred, anger, and shame.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I can help you. Let me help you."

"Who are you, to offer to help me? You are in need of the help here," he said to her, slamming her wrists against the hard floor. She winced in pain.

"I love you," she said softly, bringing her lips to his cheek and brushing them against his soft skin. "You can be loved. And you love me."

"Die!" he screamed, power exploding around him. The woman erected a shield of chi around her body as the dam broke. He picked her up and threw her across the room. She hit the bed with a soft thud and stared upward, dazed for a few moments. When he crawled over her, she closed her eyes to clear her head and think. She had pushed him and he had exploded. She needed to push him a little farther. She knew him in ways not even he knew himself yet. His power warped and twisted around his body as he pinned her there.

"You presume to know me, wench? How dare you. I am a god. I am ruler of this land, and you presume to know anything about me? HOW DARE YOU?!" he screamed at her. She had never seen him lose his cool like this before.

"What about you?" she screamed right back. "You assume that because something bad happened to you that you deserve to take over the whole world and destroy everything? Well you know what? Bad things happen! Even to children! Destroying this world and everything in it isn't going to make that go away! You have to be the person to stop the cycle from continuing. Or are you such a fool that you can't see that? You're so blinded by your pain that you would cause that same pain to others!"

He stared at her, his eyes dark and shocked.

"You've been fighting all these years to avenge the one that wronged you. Well, you avenged yourself, didn't you? You killed him. So why keep killing? Will you never be satisfied? If that's so, you're just like him."

He was still staring at her, so she took the opportunity to push him off of her. She sat up and looked at him curiously. He was staring at her.

"I'm sorry," she said gently. "I'm sorry that it happened, but you can move past it. I know you can, because you already have." She took his hand and he looked at her. He truly was young then. "You have to stop."

"What do you know?" he said coldly, drawing his hand away, not making any move to pin her again.

"What don't I know? You did so many horrible things to me, but I forgave you. I loved you. I married you and had a child with you. I know what pain is like, and I know it can be forgiven."

When he didn't hit her again or try to push her down, she moved forward slowly and wrapped her arms around him. He felt diminished compared to the husband she knew. He felt young and scared, despite all his power. She had no illusions that he would change his ways and become a benevolant dictator overnight, but she had told him what he needed to hear. What had taken him death and years of miserable life in her world to figure out on his own.

"Now listen to me," she said. "I'm traveling through time looking for my daughter. I believe she was taken by some of Tenkou's demons. My husband, another version of you, is here somewhere. Will you let us stay here until he finds us?"

"The boy, he is Tamahome," he stated.

She nodded. "But he did actually die already. There's no point in killing him again. I'm not asking you to be a kind ruler and save this world, because only you can decide to do that, but what we're doing here is very important. Our world, and by extension this world, will be destroyed if we don't reach my daughter in time. May we stay here?"

"Leave me," he said. "I will speak with you later, but leave me now."

The woman nodded and stood up, leaving him alone in his chambers. She would find Tamahome, but she had a feeling that they would be waiting here for her husband.

Nakago walked with the girl. She was still fairly traumatized, but she had gotten a little more talkative. She walked along beside him, occasionally glancing up at his face with a little blush on her own. He hadn't really noticed at first, but at age fifteen she was slightly shorter than she had ended up, and a fair bit rounder. He found her roundness endearing, however, and had trouble reconciling his feelings for his Miaka as an adult with this young girl. He had a very fatherly urge to protect her, mixed with the knowledge that this woman-child would eventually become the woman that was his wife.

"What do you do in our world?" she asked. "For a living, I mean..."

"I am a lawyer, and working my way into politics," he explained.

"I can't see myself as a politician's wife," she shook her head. "I can't see myself as a wife at all," she blushed and shook her head harder as if shaking away the thoughts.

"My wife never enjoyed the spotlight, but she does quite enjoy the financial benefits. Kaena—our daughter—is a little spoiled."

"I can't picture him... this Nakago, with a daughter. I can't picture him caring about anybody more than he cares about himself," she said softly.

"It is possible," he said with a shrug. "But probably not from this version of myself. Not unless my Miaka has already spoken with him."

"What difference would that make? If we're the same person, and I wasn't able to make a difference in what he was doing, what difference will she be?" she asked skeptically.

"My Miaka knows things about me—us—that he thinks nobody else knows. It would not surprise me if she managed to get him on our side."

They came to a great precipice that Nakago did not remember being there. "This is the border," Miaka said without his questioning. "With his new powers, he created this divide so enemies couldn't come in uninvited. There are guards on the other side.

"How had you planned on entering?" he asked, lifting one brow curiously.

"I hadn't thought that far ahead," she said softly, slightly embarrassed. "I figured I'd cross that bridge when I got to it."

"There is no bridge to cross," he said dryly, beginning to walk along the precipice. "Come on."

Miaka followed, head down, embarrassed. He was being so strangely patient. She was still having trouble accepting how different this man was. He was obviously older. She could see the lines on his face—crow's feet, but no smile lines—and his hair was quite a bit lighter than his counterpart's. It wasn't grey, but only because his hair was so light already. But his physical appearance wasn't the only difference. Although he seemed just as hard and private as ever, he had put himself in harm's way to preserve her chastity. He had walked with her, comforted her in his own strange way, and above all, was interested in not only her welfare, but the welfare of others.

"Is the other Miaka out there alone?" she asked, suddenly worried. If she was in this direction she was in great danger.

"My Miaka can take care of herself," he said significantly. That wasn't entirely true. She still managed to get herself in situations beyond her control, but had come to realize that that was one of her vices. She just attracted bad luck. "But she is not alone. She's with Tamahome."

"Tamahome? He's... alive?" she gasped.

"As of yesterday, in fact," he replied tartly. "He was killed in our world, but was, for some reason, recently resurrected."

"Is he your age too, then?" she questioned.

"He's slightly older, but not much. He looks to be about twenty," he said with a slight shrug. Not that he particularly cared, but he didn't want to endure a game of twenty questions with the child-version of his wife. He knew from experience that her lines of questioning were often endless.

"Where are we going?" Miaka asked. They were still walking along the drop off. He could see soldiers looking at each other in a very confused way.

"Here," he stopped, looking at the point that was obviously where the bridge was drawn. He called to the soldiers. "Drop the bridge, you fools!" he called to them, putting as much indignance into his voice as possible.

"Shogun, how did you end up here? Did you cross at another point?" one man called, going to the line securing the bridge and lowering it.

"I went to find the brat," he shoved the girl forward so she fell to her knees. She looked up at him angrily, but understood and played along, trying to look weepy, which wasn't exceedingly difficult.

The bridge dropped down before them and Nakago stepped on. By the time anyone had noticed the oddness of his clothing and that his hair was different, he was past. Miaka had made a show of screaming and struggling as he lifted her up over his shoulder and carried her on. No wonder Kutou had lost in his time. Their soldiers were basically retarded. It must have been an utter fluke that they won in this dimension. Well, they say for every yes, there is a no in another dimension, he thought.

He dropped Miaka to her feet none too gently and began to walk again. She ran to catch up with him. "Why did you have to be so rough?" she demanded.

"I make no apology," he said with a smirk. He had forgotten how fun it was to rile up the young Miaka. His Miaka rarely flew off the handle these days. She had her moments, but when they had met the second time he only had to look at her cross eyed to send her into a rant about how abominable he was. This Miaka went on for a few minutes about how inconsiderate it was to be careless with somebody who had been attacked, and how he should be nicer because she was showing him around this world. She failed to mention that he had saved her and that without him she wouldn't be anywhere near Kutou.

It wasn't far to the capital.

The older Miaka went down to the dungeon to visit Taka. The young man was sitting on the floor of the cell, not entirely thrilled to be back here. He certainly remembered Nakago's torture session here clearly enough. It was bad enough that he was here, but the really terrible part was that Miaka was with that Nakago, and he was doing only Suzaku knew what to her.

The door to the dungeon opened and he heard soft footsteps. She was stopped at the bottom of the stairs. "What are you doing here?"

"Nakago-sama told me I could visit with my son," she said tearfully.

The guard looked doubtful but stepped aside. "Five minutes only, then I return you to Lord Nakago."

She nodded and slipped lithely past, going to the bars. Tamahome was up like a shot, his hands reaching through the bars to touch her. The thought of the less-evil Nakago touching her like that made his insides twist. The thought of this one with his hands on her made his stomach lurch and his skin crawl.

"Mi--mother," he said softly. "Are you all right? He didn't..."

"Oh, it was terrible!" she wailed looking at the guard. Her face turned to Tamahome and she smiled. "Not a problem," she mouthed.

"This bruise," he touched the side of her face lightly and she hissed air, slapping his hand away. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm fine," she snapped. She did not want to think of what life would be like if her Nakago ever became as he had once been. Seeing Tamahome's concerned look, she sighed. "I'm sorry. I really am okay."

He nodded and took her hands. He pulled away quickly. Before, when they had been together, touching her had been like magnetism. He didn't know if she had, but he had always felt a little jolt whenever their skin touched, a bit of energy like their auras touching. Now he felt nothing. He knew she wasn't his anymore. It hadn't seemed real before then. This was a different woman than the one he had known years ago. He decided then that he would treat her as a friend and stop idly hoping. It was clear that she was so much stronger than he was. Not necessarily physically, although she was still formidable, but in spirit. He could feel that her spirit was on fire, and she needed somebody to match that fire.

"What should we do?" he asked.

"I'm not sure. I spoke with him... he may let us stay here until the other Nakago gets her as long as we don't interfere with his... reign," she sounded uncertain.

He looked doubtful. "Do you think he'll really leave us unharmed? And do you think it's wise to leave him in power here?"

"What can we do? He made his wish, he has the power of a god now. We can't kill him, not as we are now. Not unless we can somehow summon Suzaku, which you know I can't do now. I think the best thing to do is leave it alone. If we manage to fix whatever's going on with Tenkou and the Dark Lord, it might fix this world, which I don't think should be here at all."

"This isn't like you," he said softly. "To allow someone evil to stay in power and not even try to fight it? It sounds like Nakago has rubbed off on you a little too much."

Miaka frowned. Maybe he had, but maybe he was right. She couldn't fix everything. Life was full of shades of grey, and sometimes all the options aren't good. You can't always make a third option, especially not at a time like this. Her daughter's life was in danger. It wasn't just her life, or her friends, or even her husband. Kaena was being held and Suzaku only knew what was happening to her. They just couldn't dawdle around here hoping to make everything flowers and roses. This world was already dead. "Maybe so," she said harshly. "But sometimes you have to sacrifice to save what's most important to you."

"Miaka, I'm sorry—" he said, but she was already storming back up the stairs. The guard followed and Tamahome sat back down. He had messed up badly.

Miaka stormed through the hallway so fast that the guard had to run to keep up. The nerve he had! What did he know? He was just a twenty year old brat. He didn't know what it was like to risk life and limb for a child. He didn't know what it felt like to be away from her for so long, to not know what they were doing to her. She could be tortured, raped, beaten, dead for all she knew. The woman began to sob as she stormed and eventually stormed right into somebody. She didn't care who it was. The dam broke and she wept bitterly into the person's clothes.

"I'm sorry," she pulled away, sniffling.

"Now that you have thoroughly drenched my clothing, would you mind explaining why you are running blindly down my corridors?" a deep voice asked.

Miaka's eyes shot up. It would be him. She took a step back, but not out of fear.

"You're not afraid of me," he said rather flatly.

She shook her head. "I told you, I married you. I had a handle on you a long time ago, even if you were slightly different."

He crossed his arms, looking down at her. His armor made him look a lot bigger than he actually was. She crossed her arms as well. "I thought you would be with your... son," he smirked.

"I was," she spat angrily. "And then he implied that by leaving you here in power, that I was dooming this world, and that it was selfish to ask for assylum to avoid being killed by you until my husband gets here rather than to fight. But I know we can't win, and I think it's stupid to get killed when my daughter is out there somewhere in some dimension having terrible things done to her! I can't leave her there and risk fighting you! I don't care if it's not just, life isn't always fair, damnit!"

"Daughter?" he asked quietly. She remembered that tone.

Miaka nodded. "I really do have a child, but it's a girl, and you're right, I'm not that old. She's just a little girl, and she's been taken from me," she sniffled and wiped her eyes.

"You and... your husband's daughter?" he asked.

"Who else?" she sniffed again.

"Then this child is... your Nakago's daughter as well."

She nodded. "She looks just like Taria," the woman whispered softly, her head falling. "So beautiful. Servants of Tenkou and the Dark Lord have her, and... I don't know what they have planned for her."

Normally, this man wouldn't have cared an iota for the life of a useless child too weak to defend itself, but for some reason he could picture this child, this little girl so much like Taria. She would have his eyes and hair, and her face would be round and beautiful like her mother's.

"Please let us stay here. We won't try to dethrone you or bother your people. Just let us either stay or go alive until my husband finds us. We won't do anything, we'll just leave when he gets here."

"Interesting..." he considered. "Why do these people want your daughter?" he questioned, somewhat intrigued. It would seem that in the world she came from, things were quite different.

"I don't know. I think... I think they want her power," she disclosed. "She is extremely powerful. More powerful than you or I alone, probably more powerful than us combined."

"You are not powerful," he said to her.

"Want to bet?" she flared her chi briefly, letting him feel a wave of it. True, he was more powerful because he now had the power of the gods, but she was impressive. "Trust me... she's amazing. But she's only a child. Her power isn't mature, she doesn't know how to use it. I think they want to use her to free Tenkou."

"Impossible. The barrier between the worlds would have to be broken for such a thing to occur," he scoffed. His frown deepend when he saw the look of anxiety on her face. Obviously, such a thing had already happened.

"I know you don't take me seriously because of your dealings with my younger self, but I have been through a lot since then... since, this, and I know what I'm talking about. Please, I'm not asking much. I'm just asking for, in exchange for causing you a whole lot of trouble when my husband gets here, you leave us be until we leave."

The Shogun looked at this small, passionate woman for a long time. Her eyes were round and young, but in them was wisdom of years, fire, and determination. If he gave her a hard time about this, so would she. She had obviously been trying to make a point in his chambers, which was why she hadn't fought him more seriously.

"Is your seishi as powerful as you?" he questioned curiously, walking past.

"No," she said truthfully. "He doesn't know how powerful I am."

"But your husband?" he asked.

"He makes me look weak," she smirked. "You would win, but it wouldn't be pretty. You'd have to start from scratch on this castle. Besides, if you killed him, you would be killing yourself."

"Fine, you may reside here until my counterpart arrives, but the Seishi stays in prison, and you leave once they arrive. And... you must stay in my chambers with me."

Miaka blanched momentarily. She didn't want to sleep with this Nakago. Granted, it was technically the same person, but in so many ways he wasn't. "I hope you don't expect me to sleep with you," she frowned. "Besides, my husband will surely be here by nightfall. I will be sleeping with a Nakago, but not you."

He grabbed her arm. "You will accompany me, or you, and your husband, will die."

"Fine, I will sleep... in your bed," she pulled her arm away from him, crossing them over her chest. "But if you try anything..." she punched her fist into her hand.

He smirked and brushed past her. "I will dine and then return to my chambers."

"Food?" her ears perked. "Can I...? May I join you?" she asked, smiling adorably.

"No," he said. "I eat alone."

She sighed heavily, clutching her stomach. As if to punctuate her point, it growled angrily.

"I will have food sent to my chambers for you," he said quietly, walking away.

Miaka smiled. He wasn't entirely evil. As long as he didn't try to poison her, she thought briefly. Oh well, if he did, he did. But she was starved!

Nakago and the young Miaka approached the palace just after nightfall. Unlike the moronic border guards, the castle guards knew something was up. A woman that looked an awful like the Suzaku no Miko had already come through, and here came this man who looked very much like their Shogun approaching with her. They were almost immediately seized and dragged inside. They were brought to the throne room. It was a few minutes before the younger Nakago emerged, dragging a rather mussed looking older Miaka along.

"Nakago!" Miaka cried when she saw him. "It's about time!"

The younger Nakago looked at her, amused, and then to the blonde man. He stepped off his throne, pushing Miaka roughly to one of the guards.

The older Nakago faced his younger counterpart. It was definitely him. The younger man walked up to him. They were the same height, their builds the same, their sharp eyes, their pale hair and skin... only a keen eye would have immediately noticed the details that were wrong.

It took the Miakas a little while longer to realize that there was another of them. The younger Nakago was investigating his older counterpart. "Your hair is turning grey," the younger one smirked.

The older smirked. "My wife doesn't have any complaints."

The younger man's gaze shifted to the younger Miaka. "Suzaku no Miko," he touched her dirty cheek. "So nice to see you again."

She flinched away, moving closer to the other Nakago. It was awfully confusing to be afraid of the one and seek shelter with the other.

"Oh my God," the older Miaka said. "You're me!"

"You're ME!" the younger shrieked.

"Your wife," young Nakago turned to his counterpart. "Will be spending the night with me."

The older man growled low in his throat. "She. Is. Not."

"You can do nothing to stop me. I am immortal. I have the power of a god."

Older Miaka felt her husband's power begin to spike. "Nakago, no!" she shouted.

His power leveled off, but his expression didn't change.

"If you don't like that plan, you can allow me that one for the night," he looked at the girl.

Young Miaka whimpered.

"No," the older woman said. "I will spend the night with him. I won't send myself as a child to deal with the burden of a woman."

"Miaka-sempai..." the girl murmured.

"Take her to my chambers," the emperor-Shogun ordered. "Send them to the dungeon. You," he looked at himself. "Should do as I say, otherwise I will kill your woman after I kill you."

Miaka was pulled off to his chambers again, and her husband and younger counterpart were thrown in the dungeon.

Miaka senior and the young Nakago stood face to face in his chambers. "Why did you want me to stay here?"

"Why did you allow yourself to be exchanged for your counterpart?" he retorted quietly, staring down at her.

"Because if you're going to rape somebody, I would rather it be me. She has never been touched and having your first time be so violent... it wouldn't be fair. Besides, I know what you're like in bed and I can use it to my advantage if I need to."

"I do not intend to rape you," he said to her, sitting down on the edge of the bed. She stood, looking at him. He looked much younger then, and she felt that she was, again, dealing with a child.

"Then why have you brought me here? Nakago... my husband is going to think you're doing unspeakable things to me, and the other Miaka is going to feel terribly guilty, not to mention Tamahome. Is this part of your game to amuse yourself, or did you have another reason?"

"Partly for amusement," he admitted. "But partly... curiosity, perhaps."

Miaka closed her eyes for a moment and concentrated. She reached her senses out and touched her husband's thoughts. "I'm okay," she thought to him, but didn't have time to expound before the other Nakago interrupted her, blocking her mental tendrils from going further.

"You are with me now," he said to her. "You will give your attention to me."

The woman nodded. She had gotten her message across, at least. She sat down on the edge of the bed. "I never understood why you wore that stupid armor," she said randomly. "It just makes you look weird and misshapen."

He looked at her stoicly and she shrugged. "Not that I'm complaining. I'd rather you keep your clothing on, anyway."

"This is very strange for you," he observed as she fiddled with the drawstring on her jacket.

"I think I'm entitled to feel a little awkward. You're my husband... but not. You're my husband before he became the man I love. You're what he could have become, had we not succeeded. You're what he fears he will become again."

"And you are what that girl becomes," he replied. "I wonder if she is aware of her strength?"

Miaka shook her head. "I always knew there was something strange and special about me, but I never imagined that I would be so closely tied to fate."

"Isn't that a bit narcissistic?" he asked dryly.

"You're one to lecture me about mental health," she replied in kind. "You're not here to use me for your carnal needs. I know you don't have problems finding willing women. I'm sure I'm not just here to look pretty, so what do you want?"

"You intrigue me," he said to her, turning slightly to face her. He reached up and touched her cheek. It was just as soft as the younger Miaka's, if a little less firm. "I still find it hard to believe that you do not fear me."

"Do you want me to be afraid of you?"

He remained silent, still idly touching her face.

"Do you want to talk about the emperor?" she asked carefully.

"Does your husband speak with you about the emperor?" he replied tartly.

"No," she said with finality. "But he has shared some with me. Not details, but I know generally..."

"You don't know," he said, bitterness and anger in his voice. "No matter what has been spoken you cannot possibly know."

She nodded. She understood that there were things about his past that she would never fully understand. He gave of her what he could, but it was never in his nature to share freely. Well, not true. It had been, once, but that sweet nature was torn away from him when his mother died.

"I met your mother," she said softly.

"You lie," he growled, pushing her to her back.

"Why would I lie to you? We have been jumping dimensions. Just by the fact that I'm here, you have to know that's true. The last place we ended up was with the Hin tribe just before Kutou attacked. You remember the dinner with the Hin man and the woman? After you broke the water jug and were crying by the river? Do you remember me?"

He was so taken aback he stared. He did remember. Her husband had hardly remembered because it had been lifetimes for him, but this version was still alive in that life. It wasn't that long ago. "I told you to be strong, didn't I?"

"I was strong!" he slammed his hand down next to her head and she continued to look up at him. Yes, she thought, she had pushed him far enough. "I was strong, and I kept going, and I kept fighting! I did what you said, but it didn't matter..."

"It's time to stop fighting," she wrapped her arms around his neck and drew his head close. "Your mother said she loved you, and I love you too, as that little boy. But you will destroy yourself and everything you love on this path to power."

"What do you know?"

"I know enough."

He pushed away from her, letting himself rest on the bed. She gazed into his deep blue eyes. There was an obvious battle being waged within him. He knew she was right. She had said what her Nakago had always wished somebody had said to him sooner, before he did what he did. Her Nakago had once confided that the worst part about regaining his memory was that he knew he had hurt so many innocent people in the same way he had been hurt. Maybe not like the emperor had used him, but he had destroyed them and perpetuated evil. When he had been a child he was solemn, yes, because of his family situation, but he had never been truly unhappy. Knowing what he did every day of his life after his memories returned... ahh, that was the real penance for his crimes.

"You are an extraordinary woman," he smirked a little, pushing himself up.

"You always did think so," she commented.

"I am going to the dungeon. Stay here."

As quickly as he'd come, he left. Miaka let out a huge whoosh of air and fell back against the bed. Yes, he was an odd one. She had never doubted that he could change, and though she knew that he wasn't going to suddenly change into a kinder, sweeter version of himself overnight, with the right prodding from the right people, it was a possibility. She hoped.

"Nakago," the older Seiryu no Seishi regarded his counterpart. "How nice of you to join us."

"Your wife," he looked at the man. "Is a strange woman."

"I have been saying that for years. People seem to think I am the strange one. Kindred spirits, we are..." he said dryly.

The younger Nakago chuckled.

"Crazy," young Miaka said to Tamahome, who needed in agreement. "Absolutely bonkers."

"Is Miaka okay?" Tamahome asked.

"She is fine," both Nakagos said, almost as if it was in stereo. They looked at each other warily.

Young Nakago spoke. "She seems to have problems shutting her mouth."

Older Nakago shrugged. This was not news to him. "Are you going to stand there staring at us like caged animals?"

"You," he pointed at his doppleganger. "Are free to go. And you," he pointed to the young Miaka. "Will come with me."

"What about me?" Tamahome stood up, looking angry and a little left out.

"You will stay here until they leave."

"Why?" he asked, making no attempt to keep the whine out of his voice.

"Because you annoy me."

The older Nakago laughed as he made his way to the door. "I cannot allow you to injure this girl," he said low in his throat.

The man said nothing, but opened the barred door, allowing Nakago to leave. He slammed it in Tamahome's face, taking the young Miaka by the arm and dragging her out into the light.

The older Nakago had sensed that his young counterpart held no ill will for the girl, though he was highly intrigued by her. It was apparent that he wanted to see if she was as formidable as the older, more experienced Miaka. She wasn't, and he would discover that, but if he let her blossom... she would not disappoint. Satisfied that he was not going to violate her or damage her in any way, he went off to find his wife.

Tamahome struggled futily against the bars and then sat back down. "This sucks."

"Nakago!" Miaka cried as her husband came casually strolling down the hallway. She ran faster than he'd seen her move in a long time and leapt against him. He wrapped his arms around her small frame, more thankful than she would ever know that he could hold her again.

"Did anything... unsavory happen?" he asked quietly, his face resting in her greasy hair.

She shook her head. "A perfect gentlemen. You could take note," she pulled away and smiled. The other Nakago came strolling up from behind, pulling the fifteen year old Miaka, who was crying again.

The group regarded one another. The young Miaka was distressed, to say the least. She was struggling and trying to get away. "What are you going to do with me?" she sobbed. "Please let me go!"

"Quiet," he snapped.

"Why are you still here? Go to a room. I expect you to be gone in the morning," the emperor-Shogun said.

"You'll have to let Tamahome out eventually," older Nakago commented.

"He'll be free to go, I already killed him once. But I do enjoy watching him squirm."

"What _are_ you going to do with her?" elder Miaka asked, nodding at her younger counterpart. "I can't allow anything unkind."

"You know you can do nothing to stop me," he frowned.

"Please... please let me go..." she sobbed, struggling and trying to pull away towards the others.

"Silence!" he jerked her arm. "I am going to return you to your world, unless you continue wailing and thrashing, in which case I'm going to KILL you!"

"Really?" she looked up, her green eyes hopeful. "In exchange for... what?"

"In exchange for silence," he released her arm and she cautiously straightened. She opened her mouth to thank him, but the look he gave her spoke volumes. "Absolute silence."

Young Miaka nodded gratefully and allowed him to take her arm again without struggle.

The dimension travelers nodded as the others passed, and then they went to find a room for the night.

"Should we get Tamahome?" Miaka asked, concerned.

"Do you want him in our room tonight?" he asked, his hand sliding sensually down her side.

She shivered and gasped softly. "No."


	16. Chapter 15: Confrontation Part 1

[Chapter 15 – Confrontation Part 1]

The young and nearly immortal Nakago pulled Miaka down the hallway by her arm. She had stopped struggling, but the closer they got to his quarters the more tense her muscles became. He wasn't entirely sure how she even know where his personal chambers were, but she seemed to have some idea of where they were going based on her reaction. She had, however, remained relatively silent, as per their agreement. Unfortunately, when he pushed her through the door to his chambers, she could remain silent no longer.

"Why have you brought me here?" she cowered away from him, trying to pull her arm out of his iron grasp. It was a valient effort, but it was useless.

"You do want the ShiJinTenshiSho, correct?" he snapped, letting her go in disgust. This girl was, as he had remembered, nothing like the woman that was her counterpart.

The girl nodded. Tears were sliding down her face. He looked at her aghast. He wasn't even doing anything bad to her—quite the opposite, in fact—and she was catterwalling already? He turned to her and grabbed her shoulders and she looked up fearfully.

"Please, let me go," she cried, twisting away. He held her firmly, and she only became more frantic.

"What are you going on about? Haven't I told you I'm helping you? Is the concept beyond you? I should just put her out of her misery," he muttered to himself, letting her go. She took a step back and bumped into the door, and she slid to the floor, hiding her face against her knees. Although Nakago didn't know it, it was apparent that Miaka had had a very stressful day and her poor nervous system just couldn't take any more surprises. Being brought into this room by the version of Nakago who had not only killed her friends and tried to kill her, but who had tried to rape her in Hokkan, was too much. He stared down at her disbelieving. He took a step toward her. Was he really considering comforting this pathetic creature? He had, technically, comforted the other Miaka earlier, but somehow that Miaka's concerns seemed much more substantial. This one... well, he had had dealings with her before, and it seemed she was constantly waterlogged. He growled irritably and knelt down to her level.

"Suzaku no Miko," he said, shaking her, a deep scowl on his perfect face. "What are you blubbering about?" he demanded.

"Please don't... please don't rape me," she pleaded, looking up from under tear-soaked lashes.

He was tempted to ask where she got that idea from, but it was obvious she was associating him with his previous actions. And he had taken her to his bedroom. He sighed heavily. "I am not going to rape you."

"Those men earlier... they were going to... they almost..." her voice was hoarse from sobbing.

"Earlier today?" he asked, understanding hitting him like a ton of bricks. Between their previous... encounter... and somebody, several somebodies by the sound of it, trying to violate her, it was no small wonder she was paranoid about that particular possibility.

She nodded. "He, the other Nakago, rescued me."

"Did he now?" the younger counterpart asked, amused. Apparently his older self had felt chivalry required him to protect this young not-yet wife. Or, perhaps, something said to him from the dark recesses of his mind, he had simply saved her because she had needed help.

"He wasn't like you," she said with a coldness that caught him offguard and amused him in a sardonic way. "He chased them off and fought them, and then he helped me here."

"Well, age does do strange things to the mind, after all," he said dismissively. "In any case, I didn't not bring you here for that purpose. Because of the other Miaka's valor—and only for that reason—I have decided to send you home. I don't need you gathering some pathetic army to fight against my regime anyway." Nakago stood and went to a nearby desk, pulling out the heavy book and handing it to her.

Miaka stared at it disbelieving for a moment. She had a hard time accepting that this wasn't some kind of trap, but tentatively reached forward, expecting a flash of light when she took it. She was sorely disappointed. "It didn't do anything."

"Is it now my responsibility to make Suzaku's ShiJinTenshiSho behave? In case you have forgotten, I serve Seiryu," he said dryly.

Miaka started to cry again. "I don't know what I'm going to do! How will I get home? Yui is dead, all my Seishi," she sobbed, not noticing the hint of remorse that flicked over his face at the mention of the other girl.

"Is there not a version of Tamahome in my dungeon right now?" Nakago asked plainly, crossing his arms over his chest.

She gasped at the realization and stood up so fast he thought she might make herself pass out. She inched toward the door, waiting to see if he was going to blast her, but when he made no move to stop her, she opened the door and ran down the hall.

The Seiryu no Seishi stood there staring at the door. Why was he helping this stupid, pathetic girl? Why had he bothered to even try to comfort her. He should have beat her senseless just for being so blithely moronic, but he let her run back toward the dungeon, wondering how far she would get before somebody caught her and brought her back to him.

***

The older, wiser Nakago and his wife were enjoying each other's company in privacy, and in the warmth of a soft bed, for the first time in a long while. He wasn't entirely sure how long it had actually been since they started their journey. However long it had been in reality, in their minds it had felt like an eternity.

He gently nipped her ear lobe, his fingers lacing through hers as she laid beneath him. He always had been an alpha male, he thought with a smirk. Thankfully, Miaka, though alpha in her own way, never minded deferring to him in this case. He kissed her soft mouth, enjoying the feel of her soft body, now a little firmer from a few days of running all over creation. She wrapped her arms around his neck, running her fingers through his soft, pale hair.

"Nakago," she whispered. "What if we never find her?"

"We will find her," he responded quietly, not missing a beat.

"I hope so," the woman murmured quietly.

"We will find her," he said again, more firmly this time, drawing her body closer to his own, continuing his gentle ministrations.

***

The fifteen year old Miaka shrieked as she was caught by two guards and dragged back toward Nakago's quarters. "He said I could go!" she yelled, kicking and screaming. She managed to give one of his guards an elbow to the face. The man was about to backhand her when Nakago decided to intervene. He had been coming down the hall the opposite way, deciding it wasn't worth listening to her scream when she made it back to his room. He held up his hand to silence the guards.

"I bet you think this is really funny," the girl scowled.

"Release her," he said simply. The guards dropped her and she fell to the floor on her backside, rubbing it angrily. One of the guards, who had grabbed the book when he saw her, dropped it in her lap none too gently. She yelped in pain as a corner struck her already bruised knee.

The newly instated emperor gave the guard who had dropped the heavy book on her a look that suggested he not act with such will without orders again. "Finding yourself in dire straights again, little Miko?" he questioned, smirking down at her.

There were tears in her eyes but she was stubbornly holding them back this time, too angry to cry. She rubbed her knee, and then, he noticed with a twist of dark amusement (since the guard she had hit was currently rubbing his nose in the same way) her elbow.

"I suppose I have to accompany you to the dungeon to prevent overzealous guards from bringing you right back where you started," he said with annoyance.

Miaka pushed herself up and, without acknowledging her sort-of rescuer, began walking toward the dungeon again, although, he noted, her gait looked a little stiff. It seemed his guards had been rougher on her than he had thought. She whimpered when her knee gave and she went tumbling to the stone floor again. She tried to push herself up and failed.

He looked at her disdainfully.

"Your stupid guards kicked me in the knee," she explained, pushing herself to one side, unable to get to her feet again. "Are you going to help me, or am I going to just sleep here tonight? Although if I did that I'd probably just be woken up to somebody ripping out my spleen or doing some other sort of damage to me for no good reason."

The Seishi raised his eyebrows, slightly impressed with her angry verbal spew. She held out her hand expectantly. He took her hand, and then roughly hauled her over his shoulder, carrying her without dignity to the dungeon. She kicked with her good leg and pounded against his back, demanding to be put down.

"I simply cannot win with you," his voice was quickly filling with impatience. The stupid girl asked for help, but the help he gave was somehow not to her liking. He let her go, but she managed to get herself caught within three seconds. This girl was infuriating. On the other hand, the few instances of verbal sparring she had engaged him in had been sort of amusing.

He set her down gently on her feet and she automatically grabbed onto him for support, looking none too happy about it even as her hands rested against his stomach. "Just help me walk, okay?" she stepped to his side so the side with the sore knee was closest to him, and used him as a human crutch. Really, he thought, he was doing nearly the same thing as before. Almost all her weight was on him. Why was this any better?

"I don't like people doing things for me that I can do for myself," she said quietly. They walked like that down to the dungeon in silence.

***

When the young Miaka walked in leaning against More Evil Nakago like she was injured, Tamahome growled and jumped to his feet.

"You bastard!" he shouted, coming to the bars and shaking them angrily.

"Calm down, Tamahome," she admonished softly. "He didn't do it, it was the guards." She took the book from Nakago and he gave it to her willingly enough. Tamahome looked at them suspiciously.

"I can't get home on my own. I was wondering if you could help send me back?"

Tamahome could not remember how they had sent Miaka back last time. It was one of the dimmer memories and he could vaguely remember something about Taiitsukun's mountain... it was too faded. "I... I'm not sure I can," he said finally. "I think you have to see Taiitsukun."

"I can't go there by myself!" she wailed, mistakenly stomping her foot in despair and tumbling forward only to be caught by Nakago (although not without a quite exasperated glare in her direction). "I don't know how to get there, for one thing, and even if I did... it's not safe out there anymore. There are too many gangs and people who would... hurt... a young girl."

"I think I can tell you how to get there, or if I can't, the other Nakago might, but we can't take you there. I know they won't stand for it, even if you are another version of her. We've all felt it... we're going to be moving to the next place soon." Tamahome still wasn't sure how he had this information, not only that they would be leaving soon, but that his companions could also feel it. It had just sort of appeared in his head.

Miaka hung her head despairingly, but her depression was interrupted when there was a large crash from upstairs. Tamahome lowered his brows and noticed the younger Nakago do the same.

"Friends of yours?" he asked darkly, sensing a seriously deranged energy from the foyer of the palace.

"Not friends, but I think they're here for us. Let me out," Tamahome said. "I need to be up there."

Nakago let go of Miaka and she stumbled into the bars where Tamahome caught her out of instinct. "Release him," he said, heading up the stairs to deal with whatever the commotion was.

***

Much to his surprise, when he got there, the other Nakago and Miaka were already in the foyer dodging dark, twisting energy lances being shot at them. To his even greater surprise, he was not protecting her, and she was holding her own. She had a blazing red shield erected around herself and was only dodging for the moment. No, not dodging, he realized, trying to get a feel for their enemy.

"What the hell is it?!" she finally screamed to her husband.

"Siri," the younger Nakago commented, strolling over to the Miko, whose face and eyes looked rather flushed, and not just from battle. He smirked a little.

"Siri are not supposed to be two-headed," the older corrected.

"Siri are dog beasts with great fangs and one or more heads," the younger replied calmly. "However, how one got here is the real mystery."

"Great, now you've identified it. The second step is getting rid of it!" Miaka shrieked as a giant, acid puddle of drool fell to her feet and began to eat away at the marble floor. That had been far too close.

The younger Nakago looked at the snarling beast. It was a black dog with, indeed, two heads, and nasty looking fangs. It was not only drooling rather toxic looking spittle all over the place, it seemed to be able to somehow shoot a very dangerous energy from its eyes. The other Nakago was right in that something was off about it, but as close as he could tell it was a Siri being manipulated by some other source of power. It felt almost like... "Tenkou," he said suddenly, the feel of that dark chi hitting him full force.

The dog beast began to laugh. A rift formed behind it and dozens of smaller demons poured out of the hole in space time just as Tamahome, pulling the injured younger Miaka, arrived. He set her down safely behind a large pillar and joined the group.

"This is most unusual," Young Nakago commented. "Tenkou, why are you here?"

"You, my servant," the dog spoke without speaking. They felt, rather than heard it. "Have also been my betrayer. The daughter you spawned has become troublesome to me. I require her power, but she defies me!"

"I have no daughter," he spoke truthfully.

"Not yet," the beast snarled. "And because you do not yet, you must die now. One such monstrosity is enough to deal with."

"I have served you faithfully, lord," he said coolly. "But only because of the promise of power. You wanted me to gain that power for yourself as well."

"Is that true?" the older Miaka hissed at her husband.

He nodded, some understanding hitting him suddenly. "No wonder he's been toying with me, dragging me through these dimensions," he growled. "He's pissed because he knows I was never going to grant him the power he wanted with Seiryu. I, at least, never had the chance to betray him. This one, on the other hand."

"So basically, he has a grudge against you no matter if you lived or died," she said. "Great. Is there any particular way to defeat this Siri thing?"

"Siri are easy," the younger Nakago spoke, stepping forward. "This one is charged with lord Tenkou's powers. I like a challenge."

The dog beast howled and then jumped forward, shaking its shaggy head, acidic drool flying everywhere. A large drop splattered across the young Nakago's arm. He ignored it, closing his eyes. A sword suddenly materialized in his hands. He drew it, the symbol of Kokoro coming to life on his forehead. The Seishi raised the sword, white hot energy channeled through it, and sent it flying toward the beast. The explosion that resulted was incredible. Unfortunately, it did nothing. When the dust cleared, the beast stood there laughing. He barked and his demons attacked.

Miaka raised her litle dagger and began to slash in every direction as the low level demons leapt at her. She kept her shield in place, but it didn't seem all that effective. The beasts were soon gathered around her like vultures for a feast. Her husband seemed to be having his own problems and Tamahome was completely overwhelmed by them. He released wave after wave of unchecked chi from his body, disintigrating them, but they kept coming for him... no, not for him, they were after Miaka and he was protecting her. Miaka tried that method and found it made her rather dizzy to randomly expell her chi in such a way. She returned to stabbing and slashing with the little knife. Her husband was punching with chi-infused hands and kicking, but they didn't seem all that interested in him. It seemed that the dog beast was after the Nakagos and the demons were there to keep the others busy.

"You forget, Tenkou," Young Nakago said, his arm already almost healed. "I am immortal now. There is nothing you can do against me."

"You were granted immortality by the beast gods, who call their power from above. I have sealed that power," he laughed.

"You lie, I have already healed," he replied haughtily, drawing his sword again.

"That is not by the power of gods or demons, but by a sorcerer in this room," Tenkou spat suddenly over their heads and something fell to the ground with a vague clink. "But he will interfere no more."

"The magician," Young Nakago observed wryly. He would show up now. But was this the same mage from this world, or from theirs?

"Tenkou," the questioned was answered when the sorcerer spoke in low, threatening tones that held the authority of years. "You will leave this place. I may not be able to defend you from invading Taiitsukun's shields, but in this realm you are sealed."

"Be gone, useless gnat," the dog-Tenkou growled.

Chichiri snapped his staff on the ground and the floor immediately opened, devouring the demons, but leaving everything else. The lower demons were easily banished.

"I can't banish him alone," Chichiri spoke quietly to the young Nakago. The older one had made his way to Miaka and was checking to make sure she was unhurt. "He has to be banished at the same moment that the beast dies, otherwise he will just reform."

"I think I can manage that," the younger man smirked. He had no particular care for these travelers, but he did not take kindly to wayward demon lords demanding his life in his palace. In this palace, he WAS god, powers or no. Chichiri began to chant and they attacked. Both Nakagos and Tamahome were in front of him in a split second. Miaka ran over to help her counterpart, who seemed to have been on the receiving end of some kind of bite mark on her already injured leg. The beast screeched in rage and threw powerful waves of energy against them all, forcing them back slightly as their feet slid. Chichiri continued to chant his spell, which was clearly a spell of banishing evil spirits, judging by the high pitched shriek emitted when Chichiri began to repeat his mantra. Desperately, it lunged forward at Chichiri, but the younger Nakago shot forward with unbelievable energy, pushing the demon back while Tamahome and the older Nakago attacked to weaken the thing. It was bleeding from dozens of gaping wounds, but it wasn't out. It was writhing in agony, however, as the spirit possessing it was ripped from its body. Chichiri's voice was almost at a yell, and when his eyes flashed, Tamahome, in tune with his fellow Seishi, raised his arm for charge, and they attacked in unison. The young Nakago slashed the beast's head off, the older disintigrated it with a fast flash, and Tamahome went for the heart, ripping it out and squashing it. The thing writhed for a few more seconds, but with the head and heart destroyed, it was gone. Both Nakagos released energy into the body until nothing remained.

"Well, that was exciting," Tamahome said sarcastically. "What the hell was that?!"

"A Siri possessed by Tenkou, apparently," Miaka's husband commented, sounding just as thrilled. On the bright side, he supposed it meant they not only had some clues to what this was about, but it also meant that they were getting close. If Tenkou had seen fit to personally try to destroy them, his daughter must have been being more uncooperative with the demons than she ever was with him. He grinned at that thought. Kaena had will, that was for sure.

"She's hurt, badly," Miaka said from her place next to her young counterpart.

The young Nakago had already wandered over to the girl and was picking her up, much to the others' surprise. "I will see that she is cared for," he said curtly, heading for the infirmary. He had seen the demon bite her, but instead of wailing and thrashing, she had tried to hit the thing on the head while simultaneously warning Tamahome of impending doom. This one had heart, even if she was a whiny crybaby most of the time, and besides, the other Miaka had shown kindness to him despite his attempts to kill and coerce her.

Chichiri was already moving about setting wards on the palace doors. "I will make sure nothing like that happens again tonight. Get some sleep. Tomorrow we leave."

"Where are we going?" Miaka asked, stepping to her husband's side.

"If all goes according to plan, there is only one more world to hop through until you find the correct dimension."

"And if it doesn't?" Nakago asked dryly.

"We will cross that bridge when we come to it," Chichiri looked tired. Haggard, in fact.

"You're our Chichiri. How did you end up here?" Miaka asked.

"Taiitsukun has seen fit to make me her ambassador, in a way..." he trailed off, looking uncomfortable. "We have found the world where Kaena is, but I can't enter there. There are wards against my type," he said pointedly.

"Your type?"

"Priests, weilders of holy magic, et cetera," he explained. "So I am here to be your tour guide and make sure you get where you need to be so you can make the correct jumps."

"Can you not just send us there directly?" the blonde questioned, looking dangerous and a hint of something Chichiri couldn't place. Miaka would have immediately identified it as concern.

"No, and no. Firstly, everything here happens for a reason and I can't interfere too much in the things you are supposed to impact. That's all I have to say on that. You are here for a reason. You were with the Hin for the reason. Aside from that, I can neither enter, nor open gates into that dimension."

"Where is it?" Miaka asked. "Can you tell us that, at least?"

Chichiri looked uncomfortable. "Kaena... she's in Hell."

***

The young Miaka awoke hours later. Her leg was unbelievably sore. She felt like it had been flayed and tenderized, and she wasn't far off. The wound had been a spiritual wound that Nakago had actually dealt with himself, having been inflicted with a similar wound at one point in the past by a certain Suzaku no Seishi, he thought bitterly and with irony. He had let the palace doctors treat the physical wound. When she awoke, he was still sitting there. She looked up.

"What are you doing here?" she sounded more accusing than she meant. At his annoyed look, she felt abashed. "I'm sorry, I didn't meant to sound so rude. I'm in a lot of pain."

"Making sure you don't try to get up like an idiot and walk off on a broken leg," he responded to her question without humor.

"Why?" she asked carefully, watching his face. "I thought you'd be happy to see me die."

"I have what I want, don't I?" he responded quietly. "Your counterpart is an... interesting woman."

"And you're... not killing me because you think I could become interesting like her?" she asked tentatively, really unsure if this was forbidden territory. This man had killed for a lot less than her prodding.

"There is a spark in you," he admitted. "Although I have no delusions about you becoming what she is. She has led a different life than you will lead."

"Thanks to you," she said softly, before she could stop herself. She bowed her head, expecting him to strike her or at least say something really mean.

He walked closer to her, nudging her head up with his forefinger. "Perhaps you will have something to offer afterall."

The girl had the distinct feeling that he didn't mean that it any perverse way, that he might actually be genuinely interested in her. Afterall, he was a man that appreciated courage, and hadn't she faced him? Hadn't she fought against unreal odds? "Will you... try to help me back? To my world, I mean."

"Once you heal, if you would still like to go, I will find a way."

Miaka offered a tentative smile and then laid down. She needed sleep.

***

"What do you mean she's in hell?!" Miaka demanded. "Is she dead?!"

"No, she's alive and well. Alive, at least," he added as an afterthought, looking worried. "Don't worry, Hotohori is with her."

"I thought... I felt like maybe he... left," she said quietly, unsure how to describe the feeling. There had been a distinct moment that she had felt something terrible had happened to Hotohori, but she hadn't mentioned it.

"His spirit retreated to the afterlife, but his body lives, and his spirit will return when it's ready. He experienced a touch of evil that no mortal can feel without fleeing. His spirit is healing."

"Then he's not really with her," she pointed out.

"You underestimate Kaena," the monk responded respectfully. "She is remarkable. She is conversing with him, in her own way, and he is assuring her to be strong."

"Why is Tenkou doing this? This IS Tenkou's doing, correct?"

He nodded. "I'm still not entirely sure what his ultimate goal is. I think he wants to use her for some kind of ritual to switch his body with the body of another—probably Hothori's, come to think of it, so that he can again walk the earth in human form. But that's idle speculation."

"How can Kaena provide enough power for such a ritual?" Miaka asked, dumbfounded.

"Because of what she is," Nakago answered, looking wary. "Because of us."

***

Kaena sneezed. She was alone again, for now. Hotohori was tending to Nuriko and the emperors right now. He had told her that he was going to guide them back to the palace, now that he knew how to communicate with them. She had showed him. She had the distinct feeling that things were coming to some kind of conclusion, but she wasn't sure how it would end. All of those creatures coming through were buzzing with some kind of excitement, as if their leader had returned. She was afraid and alone.

The young girl curled up small and sniffled. She didn't understand all of what was going on. They had been careful not to explain why she was there, although Hotohori had hinted about them wanting to use her to do something very bad. She wished she knew more about it, because then maybe she could think of how to stop it, but she knew Hotohori-san didn't want to scare her with the details. Well, she was more scared not knowing, but grownups didn't seem to understand that about her. She hoped Yui-san and Tomo-san found her soon, like they said they would. She closed her pale eyes and held back tears. Her mama and papa were coming for her, they would be there soon. She knew they would.


	17. Chapter 16: Ritual

[Chapter 16 - Ritual]

Tomo laid down to rest. His skin was pale and Yui did not like the look of his cold, unsweating skin, and dull eyes. "Are you sure you'll be okay?" she questioned, kneeling down beside her friend.

He nodded and smiled reassuringly. "I'll be fine, really. In Kutou-koku I would sometimes test my limits, and if I went too far I would tire like this. Sometimes, Nakago would help me rejuvenate..." he smiled privately at this. "But even without his help, I would always spring back in a few hours."

Still worried, Yui pulled up a chair next to the bed and took his hand. "I'll try to give you some of my energy too, if I can. I've never tried... do you know how to...?"

"The only way I know how is, um, not possible with us."

"Oh," she said. "Well, I know Miaka has a way... If she can figure it out, surely..." But she had never been forced to weild her chi in the same way Miaka had. She experimented, trying to force chi out of her body, but she couldn't. She frowned.

"You can't force it out," he chuckled. "You have to let it out."

"What kind of sense does that make?" she said, trying to keep the annoyance from her tone.

"Think of it like a little box in your belly with water in it. If you push and push you'll just make yourself constipated, because the box is still closed. You have to let the box open and then the water will spill out. You have to first find the chi, then release it."

"I've never been able to do it at will... when it came out it just happened."

"Don't worry about it," he patted her hand. "Very few people can do it, anyway. I'll be fine in a few hours."

Yui frowned, but allowed him to close his eyes and stop watching her. She did indeed just feel gaseous from trying to force her chi out. She looked at his hand and took it again, and she smiled, dropping off into sleep. The woman closed her eyes and tried to feel with all her senses that little ball in her gut. It was there, but how to open it? She imagined her chi, picturing the warping blue-ness of it, sitting in a locked box with the lid on. She reached out in her mind's eye and held a key. Now, where did that come from, she wondered... She moved her imaginery hand forward, unlocking the box and lifting the lid. The warping blue energy was there inside, and she breathed out lightly, and it flowed. She opened her eyes, and her hand was alight with blue energy, pouring from her into him at a slow, steady rate.

She smiled, satisfied. If Miaka could do it...

***

Tomo opened his eyes. He was standing in a clear, open field. This was not Konan, Kutou, or Japan. He looked around. There were fields of small, blonde children running around, and a tall blonde woman stood in the center of the field, watching them all run about. He took a step toward her and nearly tripped over the heavy fabric he wore. He looked down. Was this his old costume? He rubbed at his face. Colored makeup came off on his sleeve. There was water behind him. Whether or not it had been there before, he was unsure, but he leaned down and splashed his face with water. That was not who he was any longer. When his face was clean again, he looked up and saw the tall woman standing beside him.

He stood slowly, looking at her. She was tall, and beautiful. Her frame was willowy, and her long hair fell about her, dancing in the wind. Her eyes were deep, ocean blue.

"You are the one who loved my son," she said softly, touching his smooth face. "He never knew how loved he was. Alas, I think he still doubts sometimes..." her voice was wistful.

"Who are you?" he asked quietly, but he knew the answer: Nakago's mother.

She smiled. "You care deeply for him still, and for his daughter."

He didn't respond. "Am I dreaming, or have I died?"

"Not a dream, but a vision, sent from Taiitsukun to aid you."

"What is your message for me?"

"I cannot tell you directly what you need to know," she warned.

"You can't tell me how to get to Kaena, or where to find this magical object, then," he tried not to sound disappointed.

"I am sorry, but the servants of the gods cannot reveal all to mortals. However, I can help you along the way. What you seek is nearer than far, and farther than near. The enemy is mistaken in its quest, and searches wrongly, for It lies where North meets South and East meets West, where all things come together and history is made."

"What the..." he muttered. He had never been good with riddles. "Can't you just tell me to go stick my head in the toilet, or walk 50 paces Northwest?"

She shook her head, her eyes crinkling with laughter. "I am sorry, dearest Tomo, but you will find it. Now, awake before your priestess relinquishes her life to you by mistake." She kissed his forehead and he awoke with a start. Yui was slumped forward, energy flowing from her hand into his. He pulled his hand away and the flow was broken.

"Yui!" he shook her and her eyes fluttered open. "What have you done?"

"What?" she looked around. "What did I do?"

"You nearly killed yourself, that's what!" he lifted her into the bed, sliding over so she could rest. "You have to be careful when transferring energy. You might have lost yourself!"

"But you're all better now."

"Yes..." he frowned. "I need to write something down," he swung his long legs over the edge of the bed and padded over to a desk, pulling out a quill and a scroll and writing down what she had said. "Where history is made?" he mumbled. "What the hell does it mean?"

"What?" Yui was sitting up, as if she sensed a riddle by magic. "What is that?"

"I had a vision while I was out, sent from Taiitsukun, or so Nakago's mother said." He knew that sounded a little ridiculous, but if there was one thing they had learned, it was that nothing was impossible where Taiitsukun was concerned. He explained about what she had said and let Yui work at what the meaning could be, sitting back and listening to her as she pondered.

***

"What do you mean she has that power because of us?" Miaka asked. "How do you know about this?"

"Because I am Hin," he said. "The legend originated with the Hin, or so I was told..."

"Not a Hin myth, but an ancient truth," Chichiri corrected.

Miaka looked between them angrily. What did they know that they weren't telling her?!

"You know about the Seiran, and about the Blue Lake, correct? How lovers who enter the blue lake and are destined to be together will receive a gift from the gods, the Seiran jewel? It was said that children of such couples will have incredible powers, powers likened to the gods, because they are children of fate."

"But your parents received the Seiran jewels... Are you?"

"No," he shook his head. "Yes and no..."

Chichiri took over. "The Blue Lake does indeed have the ability to bestow the jewels. The magic of the lake is in its ability to detect auras of those in love. Any two people truly in love, whose auras were truly in synch, would step into the lake and be bestowed the Seiran jewel. However, the legend goes further, not just those truly in love, but those truly fated to be together. When the world was created, as you know, it was created with yin and yang, with complements for every part. For fire, water to quell, for love, hatred to separate, for life, death. For each season a counterpart, for each person a mate. For every person in history, there is a mate, a person who complements them in every way, who is light to their dark, life to their death. But in such a vast universe, that these people should find each other is nearly impossible. Rarely does it happen that they even meet, because of gaps in generation, differences in location, in some cases distance across dimensions. When lovers of this magnitude procreate, what is born is something outside of fate, but tied inextricably to it. The child becomes an important part of history, but unlike the rest of us has the ability to, in some small ways, control it. Taiitsukun was one such child. Tenkou was as well. Kaena is a child like this. You two, enemies from two different times and places, were fated to meet. Because of the danger of the strength of this child, Tamahome was placed before Miaka, to give her the choice to reject it, to avoid creating that dangerous power."

"But he was killed..."

"By Tenkou's agents," Nakago realized. "He was disposed of so that this union would occur."

"Yes," Chichiri said. Taiitsukun wanted to spare you all much pain, so she gave you Tamahome, Miaka, and she gave you Soi, Nakago. But you both, in the end, were forced to reject them through their deaths, one accidental, one intentional. It seems fate is not so easy to trick as even Taiitsukun had thought..."

"So Kaena is like Taiitsukun... and Tenkou? But he's pure evil!"

"He wasn't always evil, Miaka," the magician said. "He was once a boy like Nakago, a boy with love and life. But then fate conspired to harm him, and he became cold and bitter, and he turned his immense gifts into curse, destroying and harming. But there was a pure woman, a priestess, and she opposed him. And with the last of her mortal power, she split the world, she created the book to be the gate, and trapped them both inside. Both can summon their powers into both worlds, but neither can truly leave. That is why she has limitations upon what she can do for you. If it were within her power, she would tell all to you, but she must go through her servants in the same way that Tenkou must go through his. He knows not about the nature of his tomb, only that he was sealed inside a holy object. But once he finds that object, he will use Kaena, seal her soul inside it, and will walk free once more."

"Why... did you not tell us this before?" she whispered.

"Many reasons. Tenkou's agents are everywhere. Exposing it at the wrong time could expose what they do not yet know. Telling you prematurely would have indicted you to greater action than was required at the time. Sometimes, you have to wait for the story to unfold before you act."

Miaka's eyes flashed with rage. "My daughter is stuck in HELL!" she shouted at Chichiri, stepping up to him. "I have been thrown around dimensions for days trying to find her, wondering of her fate, wondering what terrible things are being done to her, and _for what purpose_. And yet you saw fit to with hold this from me? From your priestess, and worse, Chichiri, from your friend!"

Nakago looked strangely placid about all this. He took her hand gently and she looked at him. "We were needed there first," he said softly. "And if the magician speaks truth, Tenkou has not yet found his container, and she is unharmed. As long as he does not find what he seeks, she will remain unharmed."

The magician nodded gravely. "I am sorry, Miaka," he bowed to her. "Like you, I can do no more or less than what the gods have asked of me." With that he faded from view.

"But you didn't tell us where this item is or how to destroy it!" she shouted to nobody.

Nakago said nothing, only gathered her up and lead her down to free Tamahome. One mystery solved, at least. He now understood what the nefarious Nifei's motives had been in killing Tamahome. Not only jealousy, but whether intentionally or not, she was meant to clear his path to Miaka so that they could create his salvation. Her jealousy nearly destroyed Tenkou's plans, however. No wonder she had been punished.

Tamahome was freed from the cell and the three wandered back to find the other Nakago, who was still sitting with the younger, injured Miaka.

"Have there been any places of spiritual instability here as of late? Any great concentrations of demons or natural disasters?" the elder Nakago questioned his counterpart.

"In the Eastern hills, there have been fires and many disappearances of scouts and merchants," he replied.

"Yes, that feels right," Tamahome said out of nowhere. The others looked at him. "What? I know things too," he said sourly.

"Of course," Miaka smiled at him, though it was strained. "Let's go that way."

***

After they said their goodbyes and gave their well wishes to the young Miaka and the oddly agreeable young Nakago, they walked toward the hills, and Chichiri accompanied them this time. They walked in tense silence. Miaka was still outraged that such important information had been kept from her. The things her daughter was going through, and Chichiri hadn't told her, hadn't warned her. If she had known, she would have...! But then she understood what he meant, about inspiring her to greater action than was needed. She forced herself to remember those hard lessons she had learned, had learned through dealing with Tamahome's death, had learned through her chance meetings with her husband. Those things had happened and she had responded, she had not forced them to happen, she had not leapt into action. She had responded as she had seen fit. It was so impossible to calmly sit back and allow fate to carry them when so much was at stake, but to seize fate and bend it to her will would do no more good than the wind howling at the mountain. This was her path, and now she had to walk it. Trying to impose what she wanted on the situation, she knew, would pretty much guarantee a disaster. Even Taiitsukun had learned that lesson the hard way. She had put Soi in front of Nakago, and Soi had died protecting an evil man. She had put Tamahome in front of Miaka, and he had died at the hands of a murderer, because even a goddess standing in the way of fate, of higher gods, of higher powers, was attempting to manipulate where her meddling was not welcome.

"We can only do what is asked of us, nothing more, nothing less," she finally said softly. Nakago looked over and considered her words silently.

She continued to mull over the events of the past few days in her head. If indeed there was a plan, a point to all this, what was the purpose of placing Tamahome back in her path after she had mourned, after she had wed? She had no regrets about marrying Nakago; she loved him with all her heart, but seeing Tamahome brought back a lot of old hurt. It was hurting him, too, to see them together, supporting each other in search for their lost daughter. She could tell by looking at his distant eyes, at the way that he searched her face sometimes, trying to see what he had loved, realizing she wasn't the same Miaka that she had been then. He noticed her looking at him and smiled at her bravely, but there was such pain behind that smile. She winced internally and fell back behind Nakago's step, standing alone. Nakago shared her pain about Kaena, but didn't understand the confusion she felt about Tamahome. Tamahome understood the pain of 'what if' but didn't understand her fear for her daughter. She felt miserably alone.

"Too much thinking is bad for you, no da," Chichiri appeared by her side, looking over at her with those eyes that saw too much. "It always was."

She smiled bravely, but he saw through that too. He smiled sadly. "I understand," was all he said, and put his arm around her shoulder. She lowered her head and cried silently. Nakago and Tamahome both watched helplessly as she cried, Tamahome with apparent distress, Nakago with quiet concern. Nakago could feel her roiling chi, bubbling with dismay, with confusion, fear, sadness, and even anger. She knew he felt helpless himself, unable to offer comfort about Kaena—what did he know that she didn't?--and he knew what she faced from her past was not something he could intervene upon. Miaka knew her pain hurt him, and Tamahome, and even Chichiri, but there was no point in putting on a strong face. They could all see right through it, and so she cried, and Chichiri, her oldest friend, the one with whome she'd never had the complication of eros, comforted her.

"Let's stop for the night," Nakago said suddenly, seeing a clearing ahead. It was not yet dark and it seemed too early to Miaka for them to need to stop, but she could tell it was for her benefit, and to be honest she couldn't agree more.

"I will collect some wood and see what I can hunt," Nakago declared. "Join me, sorcerer?"

"With pleasure," Chichiri bowed and followed Nakago as they marched off.

"Thanks, Nakago," Miaka called, part sarcastically, part truly grateful. He raised his hand in response and disappeared into the woods.

"It's been a hard day for you," Tamahome observed.

"For you as well," she replied, walking slowly toward the clearing ahead. Tamahome followed. "We never really got to discuss... this, us."

"What's there to discuss?" he asked cheerily, wandering to the fringes of the clearing to pull some big logs around a makeshift fire pit. "You're married now, you obviously love him very much, and he seems to love you."

"He does love me, more than you realize... but Tamahome, I can see... I know how much this is hurting you. It's hurting me too. I thought... you were dead. For twelve years you were dead! I mourned you, I tried so hard to find a way to bring you back, I didn't live for a year. But then that night, the anniversary of your death I did something really stupid. I was on a cruise and Nakago was there as well. I got so drunk I didn't know what I was doing and I almost went to bed with some lecherous old man, some stranger. Nakago stopped him, stopped ME, helped me realize that I couldn't stop living my life, couldn't give up, because I had lost the love of my life. So Nakago and I were friends, and then slowly, we became more than friends. We were engaged for a long time, but the time came and we were married. I... I have never regretted that marriage. I know now that it was meant to be. Sometimes..." her face turned red then, and she turned away from his open, honest expression. "Sometimes I was glad you died, because I never would have been able to leave you for him. And then I hate myself, because I know you didn't deserve that! And now here you are, and you're the same age as when we..." her voice broke. "And I've changed so much and left this so untied for you. I got closure when I married Nakago. I love him, I hope you realize how much. But I can see how it hurts you..."

"I understand. I never expected you to wait around for me after I died. I did mean it, what I wrote in that note, it's just so weird. I know he—Nakago--isn't my enemy anymore, hasn't been for a long time. I know what lengths he went to to spare your life in that last adventure before I died. It was just so sudden. Even though I suspected... there was nothing I could do to prove it, I didn't know how it was happening..."

"About your murder?"

He nodded. "Not until it was too late, and recovery was long past possible. So then I just tried to tie up loose ends for you. I guess I did a good job."

"Tamahome, you know I will always love you. I have never forgotten about you! We can't be together like that anymore, but I... I still think of you as a part of me, you are still my most trusted seishi! I hope that we can be friends. I know not at first, maybe... you will need time to recover, to find your family, but I hope you can forgive me. If... if you hadn't died, I would have married you."

He lowered his head slowly. "Just tell me... tell me one thing."

"Anything."

"If one of us were to die again, who would you want to live?"

"Tamahome, I--"

"No, I'm sorry," he stood up suddenly. "Don't answer that, it's a terrible, cruel question. I know you are happy with him. I will help you find your daughter and bring her home."

Just then Chichiri came rushing out of the woods. "We have lots of wood, no da! I have to get the fire ready, lots of game coming for dinner!"

"Nakago the hunter strikes again," Miaka said softly. Even though she wasn't forced to answer that terrible question, it struck a chord deep within her. She couldn't help thinking that she had an answer, and that she should be punished for it.

Nakago cooked the meat well and although it was good, Miaka did not eat like her usual champion self. She nibbled lightly, and then she excused herself to use the bushes. She darted off into the woods. Nakago silently followed.

He found her crying there. She sat on the trunk of a fallen tree with her hands in her face. She was sobbing so hard her whole body shook. She coughed and wiped her nose, and screamed when she felt Nakago's hand on her shoulder.

"What if I were peeing?!" she shouted at him angrily. She didn't want him to see her like this.

"I have seen you pee before," he said softly, sitting down beside her. "What are you so upset about? Not Kaena."

"No, not Kaena," her voice shook. "And that makes me feel all the worse. She should be my biggest concern. I should be out of my mind with worry, but I'm not..."

"I'm not either," he admitted. "I am concerned for her safety, but even though I know innocents suffer and good people face loss, that with her... there is much in store for her yet. So then what?" he inquired of his wife. His arms were not around her, in fact he was barely touching her. The distance was unusual. Nakago normally had his hands on her, arms around her, all the time, a silent assurance that he was there.

"Tamahome," she said softly. "I told him I still loved him." She felt her husband tense by her side. "I told him I hoped we could be friends even though that part of our relationship is over."

He relaxed a little, but only slightly. "Did he offend you in some way?"

"No... not really. He asked me... he asked if I had to choose again, choose who should live and who should die between you, who I would prefer. He withdrew the question immediately, but I couldn't help thinking about it, and... I'm just a terrible person. I'm so awful."

"It is natural... that you might choose him," he said softly, a sort of distance between them suddenly, not just physically. "He was your first love, you went through much together."

"Why would you think... I choose you, Nakago. I would spare you and let him die. In my heart of hearts I know... and yet how could I so easily make that decision? I knew it as soon as he asked. I knew I could never tell him. I love him, he was my world to me, but what we have is... deeper. Beyond actions and words, beyond a child, beyond anything. What we have is silent and strong, it's destiny. What we, Tamahome and I had, was hopeful dreams of children, and who knows what would have happened to us eventually. But I would drop him from a cliff if only it meant I could keep you." Slowly she turned to him. "Does that make me a terrible person?"

"I would do the same of any lover I had before you," he said, touching her then, brushing her soft hair from her face. "I... am glad you feel that way."

"What would make you think, after all these years, that I would give up everything we had, our lives, our daughter?"

Nakago was silent for a long time. She didn't press him. She knew how he was, he would speak when he was ready.

"I have long wondered what would have happened had he lived. I had concluded that you would not have married me." She knew what he was admitting. He had doubted not her love of him, but his worthiness of her. He knew he was beautiful, sexy, and powerful. He knew he could have women worship him. But somewhere in him, he doubted that he could ever experience love, real love, like what he had with Miaka wasn't real and that it might vanish.

"You're right," she replied, and saw in his eyes a flash of pain, a confirmation of a dark and painful suspicion. "But not because of lack of caring for you, but because of loyalty to my word. Had he lived, we would never have met again in such circumstances. We never would have become so close. But even though I felt so much pain at his loss, what I gained was... it was worth the pain. And I am happy he is alive, but I am also happy that I didn't have to make that decision, because knowing what I know of you now, and what I know of him, I don't know that I could have ever chosen. But now, with our lives as they are, you are my heart."

He leaned forward then, resting his forehead against hers silently.

"I love you, and I always will. You are my treasure, and you are not a consolation prize, even if you think you are."

"I never thought..." he murmured. "I know."

She wrapped her arms around him and he embraced her in return. "We should go back, they'll be wondering where we are."

He stood and lifted her into his arms, carrying her back to the camp.

Chichiri smiled knowingly as they returned. Tamahome nodded to Nakago, who tilted his head in return. He smiled at Miaka. She felt like a blushing bride being carried over the threshold.

"Why did you never carry me over the threshold when we got married?" she asked him.

"You were too chubby," he said cooly, smirking.

Miaka flashed with anger, kicking until he set her down, and then she hit him until he grabbed her and sat down with her in his lap, kissing her. Tamahome watched, feeling relieved. Watching them, how they teased each other, how they were so comfortable together, it made him understand why she hadn't been able to answer his question. He knew her answer.

***

Kaena sat up suddenly in the little dungeon. She was curled against Hotohori for warmth. She wished aunt Yui would return, but knew that she couldn't. She knew now where she was—Hotohori finally told her that she was in Hell. It wasn't because she was bad, but because that was where the bad people took her. She didn't understand why, if she was in Hell, which was supposed to be so far away, she could still feel everybody.

"Because your body and your spirit are still together, even though you are separated by many dimensions."

She didn't quite understand the part about the dimensions, but she understood well enough about her own spirit and where it was. She looked around, feeling that somebody was coming, somebody horrible. She closed her eyes and curled more tightly around Hotohori, wishing he were in his body, wishing he could wrap his arms around her and protect her from the bad people who were coming toward her again.

The door creaked open and she peeked up, frightened. Two men came in, different ones than before. One had the evil, twisted energy of something not human at all. The other was human and looked at her with pity.

"Take her to the chamber for preparation," the non-human one said. Her eyes wrinkled in confusion. He looked human, but wasn't. He kind of hurt to look at. His body and his spirit were... untied. She didn't want him to touch her, so she was grateful, at least, that the human one picked her up and carried her. He carried her like her daddy carried her, his arms cradling her body.

"I'm cold," she said softly, looking up at him with stunning blue eyes. Her blonde hair was a tangled mess, but her bright blue eyes were undimmed by her ordeal. He looked down at her and jolted, startled.

"What are you?" he asked her.

"What do you mean?" she asked, looking through him. "I'm Gi Kaena, my mother is the priestess of Suzaku, and my father is the seishi of Seiryuu Nakago."

"Nakago? Suzaku? But... that legend is from years ago, the priestess returned to her home, the seishi died, defeated by her!"

She shrugged.

"Stop talking with the vessel, she'll be empty soon enough."

"Did they really find the item?"

"Yes, a sacred vase, stopped up for years. It has... a presence about it, He believes it is the seal that keeps him banished."

"You don't have to listen to him," she said quietly, looking up with those entrancing eyes again. She was like nothing he'd seen before. Coloring of the ancient Hin, long dead. But it wasn't just her child like beauty, there was something in her, something old and wise. When she looked at him, it was as if she looked through him. "It's better to die sometimes than submit to evil."

"I... I don't want to die," he said to her. "I would never betray my master."

"What kind of master asks you to do such cruel things? Do you serve him, or do you really serve yourself?"

"Stop it, you're just a little brat, you don't understand anything," he snapped at her.

"Don't listen to her, she's just trying to get you to let her go," the not-man said.

Somehow, the young man doubted that was the case. She wasn't struggling, and she didn't seem afraid. In fact, she seemed rather calm and confident. Maybe she thought her parents would be there to rescue her. Well, it was too bad, but that would not happen. She was going to give up her life for their great Lord. Her pure, beautiful life...

"Set her there, on the alter," the twisted thing said, motioning to a great stone slab. The chamber was dark and empty, and she could feel its illusion peeling off like a sloughing sunburn. This was not just a room, this was an antechamber to Hell, further down from where she had been. It looked like a room, but her Eye saw that it was beyond a room, beyond a dungeon, just like she had Seen what her prison had truly been after Hotohori had told her. She knew that, whatever they wanted her body for, they needed to be close to the deeper Hells, but since all these men, well, most of them, and her were still alive, that they couldn't descend further without their bodies dying. Mortal flesh could not survive the Hells, she knew.

But that was odd. She didn't know how she knew. A few days ago, she never would have known of Hell or Heaven, or spirits detaching from bodies, or of twisted Things that looked like people but weren't. But now that she saw them, it was as if some long well of memory had been accessed, and knowledge had bubbled up inside her. It was the same way she knew to tell Yui that she would be okay when she had her baby, and it was the same way that she sometimes knew daddy needed a hug, or that she needed to say something special to him. It was just there within her, like somebody had emptied her out and poured in Their essence, for a time. Like she was Kaena, but more, purer, wiser, better.

"Ow..." she whimpered, her child voice coming through again as the man and the Thing tied her down to the stone slab. It was cold and hard, and the bindings were tight on her wrists. She sniffled a little, feeling very lonely suddenly. She didn't feel that Prescence in her, and she didn't feel Hotohori, or even her parents. She was alone, for the first time, cut off from those she loved, cut off from those who protected her, and worse, cut off from the Presence that sometimes filled her. Being apart from her fleshly family was hard, but she hardly noticed the Prescence until it was gone. And now she felt like all her days she had had a friend, a guide, something unearthly watching her and teaching her, and now she was nothing but a child.

She felt something like a soft breath brush over her, and it said to her: _For what you have to experience now, I cannot be with you, _It said. _But you will not be alone. Be calm, most blessed one, for I AM with you._

"I'm scared," she said aloud, but not to the men in the room.

_I know. Be strong. They will bring you back._

"I'll try," she replied softly, tears in her eyes. She looked up at the twisted one and her eyes watered as she Saw what he was. She Saw the chamber, its illusions gone, and she Saw what was coming up from the Hells toward her.

"Who is she talking to?" the human asked, looking confused, wondering if she had lost her mind from the stress of it all.

The twisted one snarled. "Stop talking to It!" he yelled at her.

She jolted, looking up at the thing. "I... was I talking out loud?"

"Do not talk to it here! Do not invoke Its name!"

Suddenly, steel in her voice, she said: "I do not need to be invoked, I am always here." And then she said softly, her voice her own again. "I sometimes talk to myself. I'm sorry, I won't do it again."

The twisted one recoiled. "We must complete the ritual. Gather the demons and the seal, and we will ressurrect OUR Lord."

The human went out to summon the demons and dozens of Things in men's bodies poured in. They set down three items on the edge of the alter. A small stone, a ceramic vase that glowed and warped with magic, and a scroll that seethed with something dark.

"What... how does this work?" the human asked nervously.

"The scroll is the seal that keep Tenkou from our world. The vase will contain the soul of the girl in his place. The stone is used for summoning."

"I don't really understand..."

"Of course you don't understand, small minded creature! But watch, and marvel at the power of Darkness!" the Thing shrieked laughter and the man winced in pain and fear. Kaena whimpered.

The Thing who was clearly in charge picked up the stone and began to speak.

"Stone of the Four Gods, I command you transform to our great will!" The stone, pure white and holy, began to warp and change. Where once there had been the soft god-light of holiness, the stone became grey and sinister. "We call forth Tenkou, son of the destined, father of evil in this world to this antechamber of Hell!"

There was a rushing wind and a hateful darkness filled the room. Kaena squeezed her eyes shut, crying quietly. She SAW and It was evil. Not a soul, not a being, but a presence waiting to be freed from Its prison. But it was not in the scroll, as they had said.

"Great one, we free you from the bonds of this prison," the Thing put the stone atop the scroll, to exchange one soul for another, to bind her soul to this vase, to free your soul in its place."

The presence gathered above her, a twisting mass of energy. It was like a swarm above her, circling closer and closer, and she cried out, trying to close herself, but one such as her, the god-touched, the pure and empty, could not close to either god or demon. She screamed as it touched her, her voice doubled, the cry of her mortal pain and the pain of the soul. It pressed her chest, and she screamed in agony, and then the scream halted abruptly. Her body went limp, her soul fled.

In the world around her body, the demons and men looked on curiously. "Lord?" they asked. But the body was limp and lifeless, breathing, but unanimated.

"Fools!" the leader screamed. "You have failed! The Lord was not freed from his shackles! He remains bound to the Hells, and now her Spirit has fled! We cannot make the exchange if her soul has fled! YOU HAVE FAILED!"

The demons scattered, and the young man backed into a corner, hiding from the maelstrom that ravaged the room's illusions. He saw it as it was then, as a vast blackness that sucked light and life away. He shuddered.

"FIND IT, FIND THE TRUE VESSEL FOR OUR LORD!!! PRAY TO HIM THAT HER SOUL RETURNS TO HER BODY!!!!!!"

The demons ran away, to continue their search, and the leader stormed out, leaving the human there to tend to the child. He stood slowly and looked at her. Her eyes were wide, her face drawn back into a silent, eternal scream. Her body was limp and empty, but she breathed, and her heart continued to slowly beat.

_***_

Dimensions away, in the wilderness of Kutou, Miaka sat upright beside her husband and wailed. The cry was heart wrenching, as if part of her were ripped away.

"KAENA!!!" she shrieked, turning to her husband and sobbing. "KAENA, NO!!!"

"She is gone," Chichiri said quietly. Tamahome lowered his head. Nakago silently embraced his wife, tears of anger falling down his pale, placid face.


	18. Chapter 17: Convergence

[Chapter 17 – Convergence]

Yui and Tomo had poured over the riddle that was bestowed on them, and the only thing they could think of was the ShiJinTenshiSho. Where north meets south and east meets west, where history is made. Four countries, and history is literally written inside. But they weren't sure they understood the significance of the book.

"What do we know about it?" Yui asked, sitting on Tomo's bed in his palace chambers.

"It connects our world and this one," he mused, and then laughed. "Isn't it funny how your perspective changes?"

She smiled. "I'm glad you're with us now."

"Me too. Being a maniacal illusionist... it didn't suit me. Flambouyancy is better, ne?"

She laughed. "Yes."

"So what else? Hmm... we know time has converged between them. Why?"

"Well, it happened when Miboshi escaped from Hell. I think it was because he had to merge the time in order to escape, because of the relationship between Hell and our world," she responded.

"I guess I just don't get it," Tomo responded. "Didn't Kaena tell you to look in Hotohori's room? We should go there, maybe that will help."

"Oh, I completely forgot!" she hit her head and moved to stand, but just then a servant burst inside announcing that the emperors and Nuriko had returned. They jumped up and ran toward the palace gate. Nuriko, Boushin, and Xansho were making their way up the path to the palace, guards bowing left and right. They looked dirty and disheveled, and extremely tired, but all three were grinning like they had gone insane. Xansho's guards ran outside as well, relieved that their emperor had returned.

"What are you smiling about like a lunatic?!" Tomo called from the stairs, laughing and a little out of it with relief himself. He had had a bad feeling about letting them wander off, and an even worse feeling that they should be here and not there (where ever that was).

"I have a tale to tell you!" Nuriko called back, pulling his lame horse by the reigns until someone from the stable ran out to take the poor beast. "But first I need to get some food in me! In all of us, I think," he glanced back to thin looking Boushin and Xansho, who were slowly plodding after him. The royalty were clearly unused to lack of food and sufficient shelter. Nuriko wasn't a champion outdoorsman by any means, but he at least was used to roughing it, and remembered their travels in his past life.

"Have dinner prepared and brought to my chambers in an hour," Boushin said, and servants scattered.

"It pays to have connections," Tomo quipped.

"We'll clean up and reconvene in my chambers," Boushin said. "Hungry as I am, I think I'd rather die than spend another moment in these clothes. Once I'm out of them, I'm having them burned."

Xansho nodded in weary agreement, but all of them still had that odd smile on their faces.

"We're coming with you," Tomo grabbed Nuriko by the arm, who amiably allowed himself to be tugged back to his room. Yui followed sedately.

Nuriko peeled off his soiled clothing and wrapped a towel around his waist, heading for the public bath, Tomo and Yui still following, begging to be told why (well, Tomo begged, Yui quietly hoped) they were smiling so ridiculously. Yui looked away primly as he removed his towel and sunk into the water. Tomo settled down on the edge, dunking his feet in the water of the hot bath, and Nuriko took a breath and finally said: "We had our own personal tourguide through Kutou in the form of a severed spirit."

"What?"

"Hotohori. He's not dead, he's... separated. I'm not clear on why or how, but his soul was severed from his body, and now he is watching us from beyond. He says he knows how to return, but has another task to complete before he does. I think he's entertaining himself by meddling."

"Emperors, always have their noses in everything," Tomo said dramatically.

"So what happened?"

"The abbreviated story is that we got one day out and were attacked by Tenkou's demon scum. We almost bit it. If we'd stayed a moment longer... anyway, we were warned by Hotohori. Well, I was, he kind of whispered to me in my sleep. After we escaped our lodgings we rode into the night, hoping to hide in the woods. We rode through the night, but at dawn we had the misfortune of running into a bandit gang. Or rather, they had the misfortune of running into us," he grinned, splashing himself under the running falls of the bath and then sinking down into the water. "They thought we were women at first, so they tried to, um, coerce us. There were a lot of them, so they, uh, overpowered us. They took us to their lair. That was the first of many mistakes. Once they realized we were men, one of the brighter ones realized who Boushin was. They tried to ditch Xansho and myself as slaves. The first person who inspected me by untying my hands, let's just say he won't be using his arm for a while. Xansho and I escaped that auction and headed back to the lair, where they were attempting to bargain with Kutou bandits over a ransom for him. I think they thought that Kutou would want to ransom him, or kill him, and they would get a good price. They brought in a group of "bandits" from Kutou that were actually mostly retired military, many of whom had dealings with Boushin in their last peace keeping expedition. Needless to say, they stormed the lair and rescued him, not that he needed much rescuing. Apparently, by the time they got there, he had damn near convinced his captors he was, in fact, simply a peasant who had a remarkable likeness to the emperor."

He laughed for a minute, holding his stomach. "They were walking him to the gate when the Kutou ex-military stormed them. They were so confused they didn't know which way was up."

Tomo and Yui were chuckling, and Nuriko got up and dried himself off, wrapping a clean towel around his waist.

"So then why did you come home?"

"Hotohori had apparently been watching this show with amusement. After we were free, he came to me again, told me to go home," he started to walk back towards his room. "It was pretty uneventful. We ran into the usual bandits and overzealous admirers along the road."

"Admirers?" Yui questioned.

"Ask Boushin," Nuriko chuckled. "Nothing that caused too much trouble after our first ordeal. When we came back to the city we, well, I wanted to go to a shrine and pray for the safe return of Hotohori's spirit. I guess I just had a feeling about it, you know? So we stopped at this little shrine, and there was an old priestess there sweeping up. We asked if we could stop by to pray and ring the bells, to ask Suzaku for the safe return for a traveling friend. She asked if we knew it was the shrine to the saints of travel. We had no idea, we just wanted someplace to sit down for a minute and pray. We went in and prayed and rang the bells, and as we were leaving she told us . . ."

"Wait," she said, her rough, cracked hands grabbing Nuriko's arm with surprising strength. "I want to show you something. I can see the light of Suzaku about you. Maybe you can help me."

"What do you need help with, wise one?" Boushin asked, wanting to help, but tired to the bone.

"There is a strange disturbance in the woods behind the shrine. It appeared several weeks ago, and has grown larger. I sense a grave darkness from it, darkness such as that from Tenkou."

". . . and so we investigated it," Nuriko continued. "We went to the woods just behind the shrine, and there was what I'm pretty sure is one of the gates that have been appearing around Konan, but it wasn't like the others. It was narrow and... controlled somehow. We ran across a few of the gates on our travels and they were broad and undefined. This was like a door. We didn't go in, but what we felt was... well, I recognized it from when Miboshi returned. It was Tenkou all right, but more than just his power. I think it was a doorway to Hell."

Nuriko was dressed at this point and they were heading toward Boushin's chambers to take their dinner.

"Well, that's a pretty good reason to not go through!" Yui exclaimed, and then looked thoughtful. "But how could you tell?"

"Did you smell fire and brimstone?" Tomo asked helpfully.

"No, we saw a demon come out of it. As soon as we saw one, we knew there would be others, so we high-tailed it out of there. We told the priestess we would come back and investigate it after we got some food and clean clothes, and talked it over with you two. Any word from Miaka and Nakago?"

Yui shook her head.

"Hotohori seemed to think they would be here soon, though."

They knocked on the chamber doors of the emperor. "Enter!" he called. His expression was subdued now, but he looked much better for having had a hot bath and a fresh change of clothes.

Xansho came up behind them, also looking much better, and they sat down.

"Did you tell them about our adventure?" Xansho asked.

"Yes, mostly," Nuriko responded, smiling again. They all shared a smile between them.

"You didn't explain why you were all so smiley when you got back," Tomo commented. "I thought you ran into that gate. That would have put a damper on my mood."

"Oh, we were all rather somber after that. I mean, a gateway seemingly leading to Hell! Only the worst of the worst go there! What if an innocent fell in?"

"That's exactly why we have to go there and close it," Nuriko nodded. "But! No, that is obviously not why we were smiling. On our way to the palace, we ran into one of the bandits who had captured us. He was the one who said Boushin was the emperor and suggested ransoming him. We asked him what happened with our friends in the lair. Apparently, the men from Kutou took over their lair and sold their swag. After selling off everything, including the lair, they made them go to all the neighboring towns and had the townspeople dispense whatever justice they felt necessary. Most of them ended up being servants for local nobles, working off their debt."

"So how did Boushin's friend escape?" Tomo asked with obvious amusement.

"He was betrothed," Xansho chuckled.

"To a local deity," Boushin added.

"A deity? What's so funny about that? Not like Taiitsukun..."

"Better. The lore of this deity is that she takes up habitation in whatever species is to thrive most for the next season. This season it was a goat. A very pretty goat named Baamo," he laughed. "Local men must temporarily marry the deity and serve it for the rest of its life, milking her, brushing her, and sleeping in her stall, in case she should ever need anything. As soon as he laid down to sleep on their first night of "marital bliss" she kicked him between the legs. After a night with a cold compress, he decided to make a limp for it. He made it here, but for some reason every goat he passed saw fit to nip or kick him... It seems that there is a curse on anyone who divorces their animal deity. Until the animal dies, the desserter will be hunted and harrassed by any of the species. Last we saw him he was being chased through the market by a couple of pretty angry goats."

Yui and Tomo laughed, and the three travelers smiled, and their food was served. They ate quickly and in relative silence. There would be more to discuss after dinner, but for now they would sit in quite amusement, thinking about the unfortunate bandit and his goat entourage.

***

Nakago and Miaka were devasted. Forced to move on the next morning by Chichiri and a sad but practical Tamahome, they didn't have the time to mourn. Miaka had cried for a while, and then a blankness had come over her. Her eyes were as good as dead, the usual bright green faded to darkness. Her face was a placid mask, a mask Chichiri hadn't seen since Miaka had tried to kill herself after Tamahome's disappearance. Nakago was more openly upset, surprisingly. Miaka's defense to pain had always been to shut down. They had all seen it at one point or another. Nakago witnessed it after Tamahome's death. She was an animated puppet, a corpse walking. Nakago, too, worked hard to hide his pain, but it came out in bursts of anger now and then. Snarky responses, more coldness than he had given anyone in years. How could he attend to Miaka's obvious agony when his own heart was threatening to explode within his chest? He had the urge to take down about an entire acre of the surrounding forest, and shout, here I am, if you want me, come and get me, to any demons he should uncover.

Tamahome looked on in concern. He had seen that look on Miaka's face before. After Yui had abandoned them in Kutou and betrayed them, that was how she had looked, except this was worse. It was as if she were fading away, her power retreating into herself. Nakago was having a more predictable response, or at least more understandable. He was angry. He wanted to kill anything he saw, and would if an enemy should appear.

"Maybe she just disappeared like Hotohori," Tamahome suggested suddenly. "You said you thought he 'left' at some point, right? Maybe the same thing happened to her."

Chichiri shook his head. "Tenkou's followers were _trying_ to use her for something, either to use her considerable spiritual energy to complete the ritual using Hotohori's body, or... or they were trying to trap her soul in order to use her body, which is very much an empty vessel already... I... as much as I hope and pray for better, I think we have to accept that the worst likely happened."

"I'm trying to offer some hope for them!" Tamahome growled, feeling annoyed that Chichiri wasn't trying to help them more. He couldn't stand how Miaka (and admittedly, even Nakago) was suffering!

"Hope . . ." he considered. "I suppose there is always hope, but I also don't believe in comforting lies. It only makes it that much harder to accept the truth, in the end."

"Without hope, what do we have?" Tamahome countered. "Just look at me. I died, but I'm alive again! If that's not miraculous, I don't know what is."

"Not miraculous, just necessary," he replied offhand.

"Maybe hope is just praying to get what is necessary to come out on top."

The statement stood unquestioned. Chichiri looked at him oddly, but said nothing.

"It's okay, Tamahome," Miaka said softly. "You don't have to comfort me. We knew this was a possibility."

"But you've come so far to just give up!" the young man protested.

"Who's giving up?" she asked. "We're still moving, aren't we?"

"There's a difference between just moving and hoping," he said. "Don't give up, I know this sounds crazy, but I don't think it's over just yet."

"What makes you say that?" Nakago asked tensely.

"A feeling, that's all," he hung his head. "Maybe I'm just naïve."

"Or maybe you know something the rest of us don't," Chichiri allowed, shrugging. "I don't know. I may be a saint but I don't know everything. Not even Taiitsukun knows the will of the Creator all the time."

"I need to go to the bathroom," Miaka said, and bolted off into the woods.

"Let's take a break for lunch," Chichiri suggested, summoning a picnic basket full of food from somewhere. "I need the bushes too, I'll be back." With that he dashed off into the woods after Miaka.

"I'm sorry," Tamahome said as they pulled out food from Chichiri's magic basket. "About your daughter, and about... before, when I hit you."

"I don't need your pity," the former shogun snapped. "I should never have allowed myself..."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"To love somebody more than yourself?" the younger questioned astutely. "It's a bitch, ain't it?"

"What do you know about it? You were the one who died, not the one who mourned."

"You think I've never mourned?" he snapped, laughing bitterly. "Your seishi killed my entire family. Murdered them, right down to the littlest sister. Do you think I don't understand the pain of loss?!"

"You don't understand what it's like!" he growled. "And I don't have to explain it to you. Get out of my face before I remove yours."

"Why? So you can harden up again? So you can shut out Miaka when she needs you most? People get hurt, Nakago. Bad things happen to innocent people, sometimes. Kids get molested, kids have parents leave them, and sometimes parents lose children, and sometimes we all lose things that we never thought we could live without..." he said the last part quietly. "But we don't just close ourselves off from ever feeling anything again! That's life! Life is pain, but knowing that in the end we all played our role, we all did our best, that's what makes it okay."

"I don't know how to deal with this any other way," his voice wavered oddly. He took a deep breath and gained control. "If you don't care it can't hurt you."

"If you don't care, you can't ever feel the joy that comes from caring, either. Is it worth it? Most people would say that the risk of pain is worth what you gain from love and respect and the joy of living."

"I've lost a lot more than most people."

"You haven't lost Miaka, have you? She's still there, and she needs you."

"I don't know how to be there for her when I can barely keep myself together," he whispered.

"Maybe she doesn't need somebody to comfort her as much as she needs somebody to just share in her pain and understand it like nobody else can."

Nakago leaned against a tree and held a hand over his face.

"Are you... crying?" Tamahome asked, abandoning their lunch and walking over to the older man. "I don't believe it."

"Leave me," he said softly.

Tamahome hesitated. What he was thinking of doing could get his head knocked off.

"Are you still here?" he looked up. His eyes were dry—he wasn't crying, but his face was pained and open. He didn't look like he was about to explode, he just looked hurt. Tamahome stepped forward and put his hand on the man's shoulder firmly. When he didn't receive a punch to the face, he stepped further forward, embracing the taller man for a moment. He stepped back, and Nakago looked at him in confusion. "Why?"

"For Miaka, of course," he smiled a little and then went back to unpacking the food.

A few minutes later, Miaka and Chichiri returned. Miaka's face was red again, and obvious despair was written all over it, but she had come back from within herself.

"Let's keep going, let's see what we can find. At the very least, we have to stop Tenkou, we have to put him back where he belongs," Tamahome stood after a few minutes. Chichiri vanished the remains of the food and pulled his hat back on.

"We fight on, then," Nakago said. He sounded so very tired, but stood, and Miaka stood, and they moved forward.

They came to a gate a short while later. "Is this our next stop?" Nakago questioned.

"Yes, last one, but I have to warn you. Where this leads will take you directly into your own pasts. Anything you change could have a disastrous effect on the timeline, so you must be careful not to change anything from how it should be. Nobody will know this better than you, but try not to talk to people."

"Where do we go once we're there?" Miaka asked.

"There's a shrine in Tokyo, Yasukuni shrine. Maybe you've heard of it?"

"The shrine dedicated to the warriors in Japanese history, those who have fallen in service of Japan. Lots of controvery over it these days..." Miaka answered unexpectedly.

"There is a museum within the shrine, and within the museum a gate."

"Isn't it dangerous to have a gate there?" Tamahome asked. "What if some civilian fell into it?"

"It's not that type of gate. This one was created by me. It will lead you directly to the final gate. You'll know what to do when you get there, trust me."

"You're not coming with?" the woman asked.

"No, I have to go check in with Nuriko."

"How is it that you can cross the dimensional barriers but we can't?" Nakago questioned suspiciously.

"Let's just say that the messengers of the gods get special privileges. I would take you there myself, but I can't. My power applies only to me. Now, good luck and godspeed." With that he took a bow and disappeared into his hat once again.

"He's awfully mysterious these days," Tamahome observed.

"He always was," Miaka sighed. "Well, I suppose we should go, then."

"Since we're going to Tokyo, we should plan to meet at the shrine should we get separated. Do you know how to get there?"

"It's in Chiyoda district," the woman replied. "I've been there with... with Kaena's class."

"Tamahome?" Nakago asked.

"I . . . I'm sure I can find it if I get separated," he shrugged. "We'll hope that doesn't happen."

"Let's go," he said, and they stepped through the vortex. The first thing he felt was the distinct sensation of Miaka going in a different direction than himself and Tamahome. He swore as they emerged, weirdly appearing in the middle of a crowded train station.

"Where are we?" Tamahome looked up to the signs. He found he could, at least, still read Japanese. "It looks like we're at Harajuku."

"That would explain all the unfortunate clothing," Nakago said. "Let's find the nearest line to Chiyoda."

"Where is Miaka?" Tamahome asked.

"She got separated in the gate. She's here somewhere. Not at this station though."

"Aren't you worried?"

"Miaka is from Tokyo, she will find her way," he said simply. They located the nearest line and crammed themselves in. A couple of schoolgirls giggled and pointed at Tamahome, turning red and batting their eyes at him. He turned red and found himself waving back. Nakago rolled his eyes.

"Excuse me, are you a cosplayer?" one girl asked. Tamahome looked down at his Konan imperial dress and laughed nervously.

"In a way. I'm dressed for a play, about a land called ancient Konan. I... misplaced my uniform."

"Oh my! Where do you go to school? What's your name?"

"Tokyo University," he replied without thinking. "My name is Taka."

"...didn't your sister know a boy named Taka at Tokyo U who died?" one girl whispered to the other. The first girl looked at him closely, and then gasped.

"Obake!!!" they shrieked and scuttled away.

"Obake..." he seethed.

"They're just vapid school girls," Nakago said. "Calm yourself, you're broadcasting your presence again."

Tamahome took a breath and calmed down. How would they know about the ridiculous nickname, anyway? Somebody bumped into him from the side and he gasped. It was a young Nuriko, followed by a young Hotohori and a couple other people he didn't know.

"Excuse me," Nuriko said.

"That's okay," he smiled. The boy seemed to have a recovering black eye.

"Do I know you?" the young man asked, looking up and squinting. He looked about thirteen and was about a foot shorter than the Nuriko he knew.

"I don't think so, I'd remember somebody as cool looking as you and your friend there," Tamahome smiled genuinely.

"Oh, him? He's not my friend, we just take the same route home," Nuriko shrugged at a sullen looking Hotohori. He was standing, not holding onto the rings hanging from the train ceiling, just crossing his arms in a what appeared to be a meditative stance. The young Hotohori had slightly shaggy hair pulled back into a short ponytail, and was wearing the same school uniform as the shorter boy.

"That's too bad, it's always good to make friends," Tamahome said wisely.

Nuriko blushed. "What's your name?"

"Ta.... ma. Tama," he said.

"Isn't that a cat's name?" Hotohori piped in suddenly.

"It's a nickname," he ground his teeth.

Nuriko laughed good naturedly.

"Where are you headed?" Tamahome asked curiously.

"Home," Hotohori said suddenly, in a tone that very much said 'stop inquiring into our business.'

"You're a cranky little kid," he said.

He harumphed and turned away.

"He's been having weird dreams lately," Nuriko explained. "Me too," he said more quietly. "That's where I've seen you!"

"No, really, we don't know each other."

"Do you believe in reincarnation?" the purple haired boy asked. "I think... maybe this sounds crazy, but I knew you in a past life. Your blonde friend too."

"Oh, this old guy?" he grinned and elbowed Nakago, who frowned.

"He's about as open as my friend Saihitei here," the boy grinned back.

"He's had a rough couple of days," he explained. "So what kinds of dreams are you having?"

"Well, dreams kind of like . . . an adventure. There's a girl, a pretty girl who is kind of annoying, and you. I think you and the girl were together! And we were on a quest for something. I can't remember a lot more."

"I remember more," Hotohori said. "We were trying to prevent a bad man from granting himself immortality with a holy wish. His name was Nakago. What's your name?" he looked directly at Nakago.

"Ayuru," he replied.

"Seems you two share something, even if you claim you're not friends," Tamahome said. "You two should look out for each other, maybe even talk about it. I bet it will help."

The young Hotohori seemed to consider and nodded. The train pulled to a stop and the two boys exited, leaving Nakago and Tamahome standing amid a new crowd of school boys and girls.

"You shouldn't have interfered," Nakago said coldly.

"Don't you get it? Nuriko told me once that he and Hotohori became friends because they ran into a guy who looked remarkably like me on the train. That guy told them they had something in common since they both had those dreams. Nuriko was being bullied because he had recently come out and Hotohori, who was quite skilled in kendo and karate, defended him while they were talking on the way home. This is how they became friends. It already happened."

"A paradox. I wonder what else we are meant to affect..."

***

Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, Miaka was finding herself in a crowded shopping center. "Where am I?!" she hollared to nobody, and then she looked up. "Oh... Ginza. Great." The streets were so packed she could barely push her way through the crowds to get inside. She went inside the nearest shop and asked for a map.

"You don't want to take the underground from here this time of day," the man advised. "It's just a short walk to the next station. Head that way," he pointed.

Miaka nodded and shoved her way through the crowded streets until the density thinned out a little and she was able to breathe again. Head for Yasukuni, she thought. She blindly walked into the street, and a car swerved to avoid her, hitting another car and veering off onto the sidewalk. Pedestrians scattered. Miaka screamed and ran toward the accident. A man crawled out of the car groaning and coughing. Miaka ran over. As it turned out, she was in the crosswalk and had the light, but the man smelled strongly of booze.

"Papa?" she said softly when she saw the man. She rushed over. He was bleeding profusely from the head. It was a miracle he was moving at all.

"Who are you? You . . . you look just like my daughter all grown up. Are you an angel?"

"No, I'm--I'm nobody. Why were you drunk?"

"Laid off, couldn't pay the bills. Always so mean to my little girl and her brother, but I love them. Tell them I love them?" he shuddered and began to have a seizure. Miaka called for help, but the man died there in her arms.

Miaka, shaken stood up and wandered to the sidewalk. The paramedics were trying to revive her dead father, but couldn't. A young man ran headlong into her, knocking her to her backside. He looked down at her, surprised.

"Excuse me," he said, pulling her back up.

"Wait! Ayuru!" she ran after him, brushing the tears from her eyes. That was an unexpected wound to have slashed open here! And now she was running into her husband as a young man.

He whirred around. "Who are you!? How do you know me?!"

"I, um."

"Are you one of of my aunt's peons sent to spy on me?" he asked suspiciously.

"No, I'm a friend. I can't really explain how I know you, but I do. I know you're recovering some weird memories now, aren't you?"

The boy was sixteen, handsome and so young, so remniscent of the Nakago she first met in the book. His face was narrower, his jaw line pointed, not yet strong. His eyes were too large for his dainty nose and cheekbones. His blonde hair was clipped short, probably to aid in looking less like a girl. He grabbed her with surprising strength for a boy only slightly taller than her, pushing her against a nearby wall and growling. "How do you know that? Are you are you connected to this?"

"Come with me," she said quietly, brushing his hands gently, even as they death gripped her shoulders. "I'm going to toward Chiyoga. Will you come with me?"

"I have a swim meet to get to," he growled.

"At Jonan? Those meets never started on time anyway. I went there, er, will, did, I don't know. Just for a minute. Maybe I can help you."

"Nobody can help me!" he snarled, pulling away from her and walking away. She followed. He was agitated, and she could tell it was not just because of her appearance. He didn't know who she was—wouldn't know for a few months, at the very least.

"Ayuru—Nakago," she said suddenly. He froze.

"What did you call me?"

"Nakago. Your name is—it was Nakago, in your past life, in Kutou. Seiryu no seishi Nakago."

"How do you know this?! Tell me! Tell me why I am remembering these terrible things!" the young Nakago was more than upset, he was desperate. "Why do I remember the terrible things done to me, and the terrible things I did?"

"You remember because you were meant to remember. I can't tell you how I know you. You will realize it eventually, TRUST me. But I know you better than you realize. I know what... I know what the emperor did to you. It was never your fault, and you will be able to let go eventually. And I know you did terrible things. I know you tricked Yui into doing cruel things, I know how you killed, I know. But I know that the past does not define who we are, and only you can define who you will be. The things Nakago—you—did in your past life, you did them because you couldn't forgive the emperor for what he did, and now you're beating yourself up for those things you as you are now had no control over. You made the mistake of not forgiving him. Don't make the mistake of not forgiving yourself."

"Will I ever be happy?"

"Yes, you'll have a stunningly beautiful wife, and a daughter..." she blinked back tears. "There is always pain, but... if you keep trying, good things happen too. Nobody is meant to live in pain."

"I don't want these memories," he said quietly. "Why couldn't that past have stayed put?"

"It's not up to us to decide what happens, only to decide what to do. Now go on, go to your swim meet. Break lots of records, it'll sound really impressive to your future wife."

She smiled at him, and a brief recollection flashed across his face, but before he could catch her she was gone, disappeared into the crowd.

***

She met them at Yasukuni shrine a short while later. They met at the main entrance and Nakago embraced his wife.

"What was that for?" she asked, smiling, feeling a little bruised from seeing her father's last moments and seeing the pain of her young not-husband.

"I remembered a very encouraging woman I met on this day. For the record, I won my events and set a district record."

She laughed a little. "Fate, eh? Or just somebody with a really strange sense of humor."

"Well, let's go in," Tamahome said, breaking the moment. Miaka slipped her hand inside Nakago's and squeezed, and they entered the shrine. Unlike the many tourists scattered around, they were not focused on the torii gate or the souvenirs, or the priestesses scuttling around with brooms and charms to sell. They headed for the museum. The museum was quiet compared to the bustle outside. A few Englishmen pointed to the displays and made questioning noises, but they ignored them. They felt drawn to a particular display. World War II and the Nanjing Incident. On the walls were displayed historical explanations of the event. Nakago laughed a little, but said nothing. They walked to the display of artifacts from the war, and there hung a rice hat. It was behind a banister, and looked completely out of place next to the bayonets and swords there.

"That's it," Tamahome said. "No doubt about it."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Miaka asked softly. She reached her hand out, and Nakago and Tamahome followed suit. They extended their energy together, a faint purple glow from their combined life forces. The hat began to quiver and glow as well and they felt a familiar tugging sensation, as if they were being dragged inside the book. Anyone who would have looked would have one moment seen three people standing by a display, and then nothing the next.


	19. Chapter 18: Confrontation Part 2

[Chapter 18 – Confrontation Part II]

Nuriko and company sat together in Boushin's chambers discussing strategies. Without back up it would be unwise to enter the vortex, and it would be downright foolish for those without control of their chi to attempt it. The emperors, then, were designated to stay behind.

"I don't see why we need to enter it in the first place," Yui protested. "It's too dangerous. We don't really know what's in there, and if it's as you suspect, I think that should be all the more reason to avoid it!"

"Kaena is in Hell, Yui," Nuriko said.

Yui's protests were cut short. "No. No, she can't be."

"She is. Hotohori told me. His body is there as well."

"Did he tell you that it's the gateway to Hell?" Tomo asked soberly.

Nuriko shook his head. "But I can just tell. I think it is, I'm sure it is," he didn't sound sure. Or maybe he was sure but feared what that truly meant. "In any case, we have to go. If it's not a gateway to Hell, maybe it will put us where we need to be."

"Well, then I'm going with you," Yui said resolutely.

"Yui, no, you don't have enough control over your power anymore. It's a bad idea," Tomo protested. "What would happen if you got hurt? Who would look after your little girl? Tetsuya?!"

Yui hung her head. He was right, but it didn't stop her wanting to argue. She was about to say something when a faint rumbling shook the ground. They jumped up in unison and ran to the door, sliding it wide open and stepping out. The sky was quickly darkening. To the west a faint purple glow was forming on the horizon. To the east the sky was dappled with black, specks of black becoming dark blots against the fading blue sky. "What is that?" Xansho gasped. "It looks like birds?"

"No," Nuriko breathed. "Demons. Coming from the shrine."

"But what's that?" Tomo pointed to the growing dawn of violet opposite the swarm.

"The cavalry!" Yui realized. "Miaka and Nakago! And somebody else," she squinted.

The purple light became a blazing corona around three figures, two tall, one short, one broader than the other, one soft and girlish. Nakago and Miaka looked bedraggled, filthy, and exhausted. The third figure looked tired, but not as soul drained as the others. "My God," Nuriko breathed.

"Tamahome. Tamahome! Is that really you?!" Nuriko bolted off the porch and onto the grounds. Tamahome was standing before him, looking as young and handsome as the day they met. Nuriko squealed and jumped onto him happily, hugging the other man with purpose.

"Hi, Nuriko," he grinned. "At least somebody is happy to see me! Hi, Yui."

"Ahh, the infamous Tamahome? What are you doing alive?" Tomo asked bluntly.

"Who are you? One of us, surely. I can feel your power. I never met you in my second life."

"Tomo," he gave a little ironic bow. "Rest assured I'm better now."

Tamahome nodded courteously and was introduced to the dashing Boushin and the handsome emperor of Kutou.

Yui and Miaka were crying and hugging, and Boushin was catching Nakago up quickly on the events of the last few days, leaving out the details but relaying the gist of the story. "I think that's where those demons must be coming from. We were, well, not me, but Tomo and Nuriko were planning on storming the place to look for your daughter."

"I appreciate that, but we should not dive head first into that cloud of disaster," he looked on as the sky darkened. The demons were flying through the air, overhead, all around. The palace was protected by wards, perhaps Chichiri's or another priest's. The rest of Konan quickly fell under the dark blanket.

"Let's go inside," Tamahome suggested, looking at the demons clawing at the magical barrier around the building and surrounding areas. Guards were scattering nervously, talking to one another, some attempting to hold their posts, others diving inside the premises to escape the swarm that scraped and clawed nearby. They gathered themselves up inside.

"I need a bath, I need a moment," Miaka said. "I'm going to the bath."

"I'm coming with you," Nakago said, taking her arm gently and leading her.

"To the women's bath?" she asked.

"Feel free to use my personal bath," Boushin offered hospitably. Nakago nodded and led her off toward the indoor spring.

***

She was retreating inside herself again. He could feel that black despair coating her chi, changing her and locking her in. She undressed and wiped herself down before climbing into the hot water. Nakago did the same. She was floating around, away from him, avoiding him. He followed her, swimming up beside her and dragging her without effort into his arms. She pushed him away, trying to turn away.

"Let me go," she said softly. "I don't want—"

"No," he replied before she could finish. "I won't let you push me away! It hurts me too."

She looked up then, to see the pain in his face. His expression fell even further when he saw the pain in his eyes of looking at him, his Hin/German features, his blue eyes, his blonde hair—her features, his coloring. If Kaena truly was gone, would they be finished? Would she ever be able to look at him again without thinking of what she had lost?

He pushed her back against the smooth marbled wall of the spring, his muscular body holding hers still, his hands against her shoulders. She flashed back to a moment so long ago she had nearly forgotten, when a dangerous enemy pinned her fifteen year old body against a wall with his incredible power, touching her, violating her.

"Let me go!" she screamed at him, struggling. "Please let me go!"

He released her shoulders then, backing away, looking off into the distance in pain. Where he was looking, no outsider could see. He was looking to his past. He was looking to his pain at losing his mother—reopened recently—and his pain when he lost Taria. It had hurt to look at himself in the mirror after that, with those same features as her. Knowing what he had done to her, knowing how they had built a life together and how it seemed that was unraveling around him.

"I would never hurt you," he said quietly, feeling pretty wounded himself.

She sobbed into her hands. "I know that," she wept, bare shoulders shaking violently. "I know that in my head, but my heart says being with you brought me this pain. If we had never—if we hadn't met again, if we hadn't had Kaena, I would be feeling this now, I wouldn't be torn to shreds inside."

"Do you regret what we have shared?"

She turned and fell against him then. "No. I love you, and I knew I might never have children when I married you. I knew it might not be possible because of what happened, but I wasn't prepared for this. It hurts so much to look at you right now."

The warrior wrapped his arms around her tightly. "It hurts me to look at me sometimes too. Seeing Taria, seeing my mother, seeing who and what I was, seeing how I can't be more for you, can't be more available to you emotionally, and now . . . seeing Kaena. When we look at our true nature it always hurts a little to look at ourselves. I suppose the trick is to look past it to what could be."

She cried to him and they shared their pain. He wiped her eyes and he wept silently into her hair. They mourned together, and when they had cried all their tears and asked why until there were no more whys to ask, their barriers fell down, and suddenly there was nothing between them. There was no more fear of the other, no more fear of pain or rejection. A soft light surrounded them, their naked bodies entwined. The light was violet and powerful, pulsing in time to the beat of their hearts. A strong beat to echo Nakago, and a gentle flutter in reply—strength and gentleness together.

"Oh my God," Miaka breathed, looking at the light surrounding them, squinting desperately against its power and glory.

Nakago's arms tightened around his wife, not in fear, but in amazement. His mouth hung slightly open. He had felt this power once before, when he had died. After Tamahome struck the final blow, he had been laid bare, had seen all his life's accomplishments and failures before him, clear as could be. This presence had been there, exposing, forgiving.

"Your love for one another has opened you to Me. Our precious daughter has run from us for now, but she lives. She awaits your arrival, and my return. But you will need something."

The Presence had a form, not so much a body, but a spirit with substance, containing life and death and all knowledge. And the Presence knew him like he had never been known. He dropped to his knees in the shallow water as he realized what this was. Not some minor guardian deity like Suzaku or Seiryu, not Taiitsukun or even Tenkou, but the Creator—the Lifegiver, the one who made all and designed all.

"What do you have for us?" Miaka managed to ask. Her face was as amazed as his, but she couldn't be stopped from inquiring about her daughter. "What do you want us to do?"

"Take the Book, the one created by my servant so long ago, the one that divides all that I have created. Take the book and go to the portal, to Hell, where you will find your daughter."

The ShiJinTenshiSho, the book she had known for nearly twenty years, appeared above them, wrapped in a bubble of the four colors representing the four gods. And surrounding those gods was the brightest white Nakago had never seen. It blinded him a little to look at it. "But what do we do with it?"

"She will know," the Presence told them.

Nakago found his tongue and spoke. "Tell me why you've done this to us? Why have you put us through this? Surely it's in your power to fix this, to prevent pain to innocent people?"

"None are innocent, Ayuru," the Presence said. "And I do not control the will of others, even when evil comes from it. But I will protect my faithful servants, and bring good out of evil. I have brought love to you, have I not? What is greater? Hope in me and I will not forget you."

The book slowly floated into their hands, and then Presence was gone.

Miaka took the book and climbed out of the water, rushing for the door. Nakago knelt, stunned for a moment more, and then realized what his wife was about to do.

"Miaka?" he asked, stepping out of the water.

"What? We have to tell the others! Now!"

"Don't you think you should get dressed first?"

Miaka's face flushed, and Nakago smiled; truly smiled for the first time in days. Whatever had divided them had been removed, and now he felt whole and honest and hopeful for the first time since he first became aware of being the reincarnation of such a failure of a human being. But the Presence, the Creator had forgiven him, and lifted those things from him so they couldn't hurt him. He knew what he had to do, and dared to hope that he could do it.

***

They met the others in the hall, still dripping wet, but clothed. Yui and Tomo were there, but Boushin and Xansho had retired.

"You look strange," Tomo said, looking quizically at the man who knew better than any other. "Did something happen in there?"

Miaka opened her mouth to talk, but Nakago held up his hand, simply nodding. He was clearly unable to put what had happen into words, so Miaka nodded as well and held up the book. "God came to us. Or something like God. I don't know," she shook her head. "And gave us this."

"The ShiJinTenshiSho?" Nuriko took the book, examining it. It looked more battered, in the light, than it ever had before. The book was old, and now that she really looked at it, she could feel the darkness in it even beyond the power she normally felt. It was a holy book, a vessel, but there was something dark in it, and it served to bind and divide what had been made.

"He, or she, whatever . . . said we were to take the book to Hell. To give it to "her"--who is that? Yui? Somebody else?"

"Kaena," Yui whispered. "Like the dream you had, Tomo. The woman said you had to go to Hell, and that the secret lay where the fourth corners meet, and history is made. The book is the key. But if it's here, what is connecting this world to ours? How will we get back?"

"Don't worry," Miaka smiled, something in her shifting, settling.

"Is there anything to do? Should we wait . . ."

"No," Nakago said grimly, looking outside. "If we wait, there won't be anything left to save. Let's go."

***

In another place, far away from earth and Hell, Hotohori took a little girl's hand. She looked up at him, her blue eyes smiling despite her puzzled expression, and Hotohori forgave the girl's father much.

"Is it time to go back yet?" she asked. The thunder in her voice, the knowledge, gave him a chill. She knew, but she asked him anyway.

"Almost," he said.

"Are you ready?" that voice so full of the world, of all things, asked. "Are you ready to face who you are, what you want?"

The man looked at the girl, and felt her blue eyes penetrate him. A flash of Nuriko's violet hair made him smile; a hint of that sweet, salty scent he always had, and suddenly compared to everything else that had happened, that fear—the fear he had always had of allowing himself to feel what he'd known since he was a boy, riding on a Tokyo train with his friend—disappeared. Instead there was hope.

"Yes, I'm ready," he said.

***

They tore through the forest, barraged by demons from all sides. Nakago and Miaka threw shields over themselves and the others imitated, no time to learn formally under pressure. The demons clattered against their shields and knocked down trees and rolled boulders into their paths, but nothing could keep Nakago from his daughter. They pressed forward, seeing the vortex ahead. The shrine had been demolished, the old priestess unconscious on the ground. Nuriko pushed to the front, leading them toward the entrance. He nearly had his head taken off, but was pushed aside by the actor. Tomo unsheathed a short dagger, pushing the smaller man behind.

"Shit," he exclaimed colorfully. "What was that?"

Nakago nodded to the spot where Tomo stood, dancing a deadly waltz with an invisible something. He dodged, and paried, and screamed. Three vivid claw marks appeared across his stomach and began to fester. Nakago scowled. He had let this man die for him once before—not again. He handed him off to Nuriko and expanded his great chi. He heard a satisfying scream and looked to the right where Miaka was now doing a similar dance. She tossed the book off to Nakago and, as her husband looked on with pride, similarly flared her chi and destroyed the demon.

"We could stand around fighting these things all day!" Nuriko cried, catching an enormous boulder that had nearly squashed Miaka. The demons were closing around them, and their shields weren't doing any good. Their power was greater than the others—not simply fodder, but lieutenants, sent to guard the opening.

Miaka's scream brought the Hin man back to himself. He cried out as he saw her hit the ground, clutching some invisble wound. He saw blood slide from between her knees, and knew what had happened—it was a wound inside her, where she had already been so damaged by shrapnel and the birth of their only child. The old shrine maiden stood in front of her laughing. Nakago handed the book off to somebody—Tomo, perhaps, or Tamahome—he wasn't sure, and he became the General of Seiryu. His eyes flashed, and the symbol of kokoro appeared on his forehead. He held out his hands, and a sword, not of metal but of pure chi, materialized in his grip.

"Naka . . go . . . it's not her, demon--" Miaka gasped. He was distracted momentarily by her pain, and the woman flew at him with superhuman speed.

"Take care of her!" Nakago shouted to Tamahome. "Get her out of here." He turned his eyes toward the woman, and saw what Miaka was trying to tell him. There was a demon in the thing. The body and the spirit were untied. The woman was dead, and, he realized as the woman held up her hand to halt the other demons, that this one was in charge.

"Give us the book," she said, the voice weirdly doubled. "And we let you live."

"Give me my daughter," he hissed. "And I might kill you without destroying your mind and everything you are."

The demon laughed, the old woman's dry cackle and a horrible keening wail combined. The demon's hand fell and the attack resumed. He heard Tomo's scream, and saw Nuriko and Tamahome desperately trying to protect the injured man and Miaka, but there were too many. Nakago focused his attention on the demon in the old woman. He couldn't be distracted right now.

"She's already gone, you know," the demon said. "We need the book to free Tenkou, but she's already gone. You're too late. And we had fun playing with her little body."

Cerulean power sizzled around him, electrifying the air and the ground he touched. His sword grew and he crouched. "The little scar on her thigh—how did she get it?"

Nakago screamed in outrage. There was only one way they would have seen that scar, something she had procured after she had tried to imitate Peter Pan and fly off the kitchen table. Blinded by rage, he lunged wildly, and felt a sick crack as the woman's arm broke with the force of the demon's blow. He stumbled and rolled, swinging the sword toward the demon's legs, but she jumped and landed on the blade.

"She had such a delightful scream."

Nakago looked over and saw Miaka, bent over in agony, bleeding and dying, and saw Tamahome and Nuriko backed into a corner, desperately fighting, and saw the demented demon, broken limbs, horrible essence leaking out of the rotting old woman's body, and wanted to resign. He slumped. If she was gone, if it was true . . .

"_Lies," _a Voice whispered. _"Believe in me."_

"I can't," he whispered hoarsely, trying to push himself up. He had no strength left. Would death be like it was last time? Would he go on to be reincarnated again, to live again, or would everything end if Tenkou got what he wanted? Would his life mean nothing?

"_Let me in. I will be your strength. I have always been with you, Ayuru."_

Resignation. His spirit could take no more of this. He closed his eyes and let go. And suddenly he was filled with strength. He was renewed, floating on wings like an eagle, and he leapt to his feet. The demon took a step back in terror, and shrieked.

"Guard! Guard the passage! Get the book!" it screamed. Nakago felt oddly calm, like he was far away from his body. He looked at his hands; his, but not. The sword had transformed from a blue broadsword to a serated war blade, long and lethal, and the purest white. He didn't know what the demon saw in his eyes, but must have been terrifying. The tenuous bond between the spirit and the decomposing body broke, and the demon fled, shrieking in terror, and Nakago found himself flying through the air. He wasn't expending his chi, exactly, but he was being suspended, and the demon was looking back at him with wide, horrified red eyes. He felt his hand raise and slice downward with deliberate power. The demon shrieked and screamed and disappeared.

Nakago landed lightly, and walked with purpose toward his people, his friends, and his energy exploded around him, destroying the lesser demons that scattered around. Nuriko and Tamahome stared, open mouthed as he passed, and Nuriko fell to his knees.

"Mother mercy," he whispered.

He touched Tomo's wound, not deep, but already festering badly, and it was healed. And then he touched his wife, the love of his life, and she opened her hazel eyes, the pain in her eased. Suddenly, the power in him left, and he felt cold and alone, but heard the whisper in his mind and knew he was not alone.

"What happened just now?" Nuriko asked, seeming to sense that whatever had been driving Nakago was not Seiryu.

He shook his head, not sure how to explain it.

"Nakago," Tamahome said. "I'm sorry. They got it. They got the book."

He wanted to swear, to scream, but he remembered what he'd felt, the depth of what he had felt—all knowledge and all power, and he knew what he needed to do.

"I know where to go."

***

"It is time," Hotohori said, taking the girl's hand. The seishi led her back to her body, back to hell.

Hotohori awoke in his own body. The sensation was jarring at first, after being unbound by flesh or the laws of physics for so long. But the knowledge of those sensations was quickly fading, and he knew what he had to do. He picked up a rock and his power swelled around him. He bashed through the wall of the cell, not really a cell at all, but some chamber in Hell, and he ran. He stole a sword from the first man he saw, and killed all who crossed him after. He passed a clattering pack of demons, and saw something that horrified him—the book!

But there were too many of them, so he continued on. That was not his task. He hid until they were gone, and then he reached the entrance, nearly crashing into Nakago and the others as they rushed into the vortex.

"Hotohori!" Nuriko cried and leapt against him.

He embraced the man and whispered in his ear that he was ready. Nuriko pulled away, looking puzzled, but shook himself. "What's going on?"

"No time. I have to lead you in, I have to lead you to Kaena. They have the book."

"We saw. We still don't know what they're doing with it."

"No time," he said again, and then turned. "Follow me."

And so Hotohori, who had slipped between heaven and the mortal world for days, who had explored the depths of these hell-caves in spirit form, remembered nothing but the path he was meant to take. They made sharp turns and leapt down huge drops, and ran into the chambers of the underworld itself.

***

Miaka followed Hotohori, overwhelmed with joy that he had returned, daring to hope that Kaena had as well, and that she was safe. But there was urgency here, and they all felt it. There was no room for mistakes now. They could win everything, or lose it here.

"This is it," Hotohori said. "The door is locked with more than metal. I'm not sure how to get in. It sounds like the ceremony has already begun."

Miaka screamed and released her power. Nakago took a step back in shock; Hotohori and the others in fear, as her chi exploded and concentrated on the door. It violently flew off the hinges, whatever magical barriers on it completely obliterated.

"Nothing can keep a mother from her daughter!" she shouted and rushed in the room, meeting the strangest scene she had ever seen.

Her daughter lay still on a strange alter. Two demons held her hands and feet, and although she was in there, she had retreated within herself somewhat. There was a rock with great magical power, and another demon incanting, holding the book up.

Nakago suddenly stiffened beside her, and lashed out with that strange white chi, cutting down the demon and knocking the book to the floor. The other demons leapt up to reclaim it, but the one Nakago had attacked simply laughed. The ShiJinTenshiSho was glowing.

"It's too late!" he cried.

"No!" Miaka screamed, feeling her daughter's spirit ripped away, ripped into the book. And something replaced it. Something terrible and dark. The demons released her, and she smiled, her blue eyes the color of midnight.

"Die," her childish voice spoke. Miaka screamed and fell to the floor as a terrible energy flooded her. It was black and burned her from her core. She felt her body convulsing, but it felt far away. The pain was leaving, her body was still, her eyes slipped shut despite Nakago's screams and violent shakes.

"Not yet," the Voice said, a Voice she had heard a few times in her life, one that she knew. It was the same as the Presence that gave them the book. She opened her eyes.

"Are you trying to give me whiplash?" she whispered, pushing her husband's hands from her shoulders. She put up a shield of power around herself and stared at her daughter.

"Kaena!" she said sharply, and midnight blue eyes focused on her, shocked and outraged. "Do you remember when we went to the park, and that ugly boy took your dolly and threw it in the dirt? And I told you it wasn't nice to fight with people? Mommy was wrong. FIGHT! Kick and scream and claw and bite! Fight for mommy!"

There was a flash of pale blue, blue the same as her husband's. The midnight power flashed again, but Nakago stepped between his wife and the blast, and that white energy protected them.

"Fight like daddy taught you," Nakago said softly. "Remember those things I told you not to tell mommy I showed you? Do them now."

"Fight, Kaena!" Nuriko cried. The others joined in the chorus.

Hotohori's deep voice thundered through the chamber. "Remember what I told you? That they would protect you? We're fighting for you, so fight for us."

Miaka watched as her daughter's eyes flashed from midnight to sky blue again and again. Her tiny body convulsed and squeaked, and suddenly she fell backward, unmoving.

***

Kaena stared. She was in a nice place, but it was deceptively nice. The grass was green, and a warm wind blew across her face, rustling her blonde hair. She could hear her parents and Hotohori and all of them telling her to fight, but she wasn't sure what she was fighting, so she tried to see past the illusion. For a moment she saw herself trapped inside a book, but something was tethering her to her body. A golden thread that felt like the nice presence in her that she sometimes felt. It held her there.

"Stupid child," a voice said. "Stop it!"

"Stop what?" she asked, confused, and then she realized that it must be the bad one, the one she felt hurting her, pushing her out of herself. "You stop it! Get out!"

A form materialized in front of her. He was a nice looking man, with dark hair and eyes, and strong features like her daddy. He smiled gently and knelt at her level. "I need to borrow your body for now. Can you please go into the book like a good girl?"

"Why do you need it?" she hesitated. She had lent her body to the Presence before. It was always briefly, but she had. What was this presence? Maybe there was something important to do?

"I have to return to my power. I have to fix the worlds. They're not supposed to be split like they are."

"When will I get to come back?"

"When I'm finished."

She took a step toward the man, and he knelt to her level. "Such a pretty girl. You've been so brave. I know it's been scary for you."

Kaena rubbed her eyes. It had been scary. She had thought she was alone, and then Hotohori came, and he helped her. And then the men came, and she went inside herself, but she came back. What did she come back to do? It was hard to remember things that happened in that place.

He held out his hand. She saw something glint in his eyes and on his hip. She looked at the dagger. "What's that for?"

"Nothing. It's just a pretty knife. Come, let me show you out."

"But you didn't ask nicely. When the Other comes, she always asks me. She never takes. Why did you have all those bad things that weren't humans but had human bodies over them do that weird ceremony?"

"You ask too many questions, child," he answered, and she could see he had the look in his face that daddy got when she asked too many questions. But daddy never looked at her like this.

"I don't think I want you here," she decided. "You should go away."

"I'm not going anywhere. You will be the one to go," he made a grab for her hand. Kaena danced away.

She noticed the golden thread on the ground become thicker, ropelike. She picked it up and tied it around her waist, narrowing her blue eyes at him. She crossed her arms like mommy did when she was being 'obstinate' (that was what daddy said) and stomped her little foot. "Go away!"

The man didn't look so nice anymore. His features blurred, and she saw an ugliness behind his face. He wasn't like the demons with the human bodies, but he wasn't like her either. He grabbed her and yanked her off her feet, so she shrieked and swiped her fingernails across his face. He screamed in pain and dropped her, slapping her hard. She whimpered and hit her head hard on the ground. Dazed, she watched him pull back his foot like she was a soccer ball.

"If you won't go by choice, I'll beat your spirit down so you have to!" he kicked her, and she cried out, skidding across the grass, which wasn't pretty anymore. It was pointy and brown.

"Help me," she whispered. "Come back. Help me."

"Nobody is here to help you, girl. It's just us. Submit to me, and you won't get hurt anymore."

"LIAR!" she shrieked. "You do nothing but hurt people! You hurt my daddy! You made him do terrible things. You made bad people do bad things to him! You made people bad and made them hurt others. All you do is LIE! LIAR!!! Please help me! I know you protect me. Please he-" she squeaked in pain as he kicked her again.

The man screamed when he touched her, dancing back on one foot, and she watched as he cursed and raged.

"My darling," the Voice said to her, filling her. She let go of herself immediately, surrenduring completely. "My Hope. I've come to help you."

Suddenly she was on her feet, but she was much higher up than she'd ever been. She looked down at her long limbs, and flowing yellow hair, and saw that she was a grown up now, with this much power in her.

"My child," the Voice spoke through her, and Kaena sat back and watched as her Creator dealt with the bad man. "I gave you all my gifts, and you have done nothing but destroy."

"You shouldn't have given me powers if you didn't want me to make my choices. You always tried to make me do what YOU wanted, never what I wanted! Well, that bitch Taiitsukun did all she could to keep me, but she only cracked the realms and locked me up. I knew her magic would fail eventually!"

"Her magic didn't fail," the woman spoke. "I broke her magic."

"Why?" he gasped. "You lie! I broke myself free!"

"I allowed this girl," she motioned to herself. "And her parents, and so many others to suffer so that you might have another chance. But you still don't see what it is Taiitsukun and this child know so well."

"What's that?" he demanded. "Why should I see it your way anyway? Why can't I do what I please?"

"Your rebellion hurts many," the god-child said. "But mostly it hurts you. You know what I've done for you, what I've given you. Yet you made your choice. I love you still, but you have offended me and mine. For that you must be punished."

"I don't understand! Why are your ways so good and mine so wrong?!"

"You chose to be selfish, to pursue power without remembering what power is for. I don't require you follow my plan, though it would always be to your benefit, but your life would have been incredible if you had trusted me. You did not, but all things serve me, even rebellion. You made your choice. I have made mine. Perhaps you will learn by the next time we meet. I will judge you again, and perhaps then you will be ready."

Kaena felt her hands rise and unimaginable power was channeled through them. She saw the bad man and he was pulled away, and she felt the Creator kiss her cheek and soar away with him. Where he would be, she didn't know, but he would never be gone. The Creator would get him eventually.

Kaena followed the golden tether, left there by the Presence, and followed it back to her body like Hotohori had showed her. She was within herself again.

***

Miaka watched her daughter slowly sit up. Her eyes were pale, and though tears stained her pink cheeks, she smiled. Miaka ran toward her daughter, but the girl held her hand up. She skidded to a halt, afraid for a moment that she'd been deceived into thinking it was Kaena. But then she stepped back and saw a pale outline surround her daughter. She transformed then, into a young woman. Her face was Miaka's, from the small nose and rose petal mouth to the large eyes, but the coloring was Hin, was Nakago. Her long hair flowed around her, and power poured from her and through her. She stepped off the alter, her long legs gracefully swinging to meet the floor, and she bent and picked up the book.

"Kaena--" she whispered.

"This book was created for a reason, and now its purprose is done. No more will any of you travel between the worlds. What was created will be made whole, and what should not have been will be no more. Tamahome, my servant," she said softly.

Tamahome looked at the woman in wonder, amazement and surrender written across his features. "Yes?"

"Lend me your strength, for the power of my body is not yet strong enough to channel the one who created all."

Kaena, with the body of a young woman roughly outlined around the small figure of a child, handed the book to Tamahome. He held it up uncertainly, and Kaena touched his shoulders. Tamahome's face went blank suddenly, and light, white light like that which Nakago had used, flooded through him. His body stiffened as if he were being electrocuted, and Miaka averted her eyes as the book burst into flames, paper curling into ashes and floating away.

"You have served me. Now you must live." Kaena gently laid the seishi on the ground where he lay unconscious. She smiled at her parents.

Miaka stared at the woman, into the eyes of the woman her daughter would become, the prophet or saint that the Presence would create in her, and cried. All she had done had been for this, and it was good. Kaena reverted to the form of a child again, and when she woke up again, she was crying. Nakago rushed to her, scooping her into his arms, and Miaka watched father and daughter, her own tears falling joyfully from her eyes.

"I think you should see this," Nuriko's voice came from the mouth of the vortex, which had turned into nothing but an ordinary cave. Miaka ran to him, and gasped. The world was different. A modern shrine stood outside the mouth of the cave, the symbols of Seiryu, Byakko, Genbu, and Suzaku etched on a tall torii gate. She could see Tokyo in the distance, and Konan style houses outside the city limit. Things had changed, indeed.

"No da!" Chichiri appeared suddenly, and Miaka almost swallowed her heart.

"Mother of God!" Nuriko shouted, thwapping the man on the head.

"No da . . ." he slid to the ground. "Looks like you did it."

"I don't understand. How did this happen? Was this meant to happen?"

"When Taiitsukun sealed Tenkou and his magic, she split the world. She took the magic and used it to create the book and the prison for Tenkou. That removed the magic from the other part of the world, and they developed differently. Over time, the influence of the magic changed the way time moved, and they became disaparate. But they were always meant to be together."

"I thought merging would destroy the world?"

"Done by Tenkou, who does nothing but destroy, the world would have been unsalvagable. Done by the one who created it all, it is the most perfect blend of all. Things will be different here, though most people won't be aware of the change."

"So now, we can use magic here? And everything in that world . . . is in this one?"

"Just about everything, yeah," Chichiri nodded to a very puzzled looking Yui rounding the edge of the mountain with Boushin and Xansho. "Most people will have no memory that things have ever been different. But you'll know."

"And you're here! Is Tasuki here?"

"They're all here. Good and bad is here, just like before."

Nakago stepped outside, Kaena draped across his chest. The others followed, Tamahome looked stunned and shaky. She shook her head, trying to process it all. She wasn't sure she understood why they had jumped through so many hoops to get to this point, why it all had happened, but she supposed she didn't have to understand it all. She had her family, and her friends, and now she even had her power. She flexed her fingers and allowed her power to swell briefly, smiling.

"Just what I need—a wife who can use magic anytime she wants."

"And a daughter, too," Chichiri said. "If you don't mind . . ." he paused.

"You want to train her to use her power," Miaka said.

He nodded.

"We'll make arrangements," Nakago said. "But I won't let you teach her everything. I want to teach her some."

"Guess my family will be missing me," Tamahome said, looking puzzled. "Can I catch a train still, or should I find a horse?"

"I think the trains will always run on time in Tokyo, with or without ancient quarters," Chichiri laughed.

Miaka plucked her sleeping daughter out of Nakago's arms, and held her tightly. She didn't think they would ever full understand what had happened inside Kaena, when they had seen odd flashes of light, and a strange internal struggle. But Miaka knew her daughter, her pride and joy, would be a powerful warrior and she was sure whoever it was who had helped them all come to this point had grand plans for the rest of her story.


	20. Epilogue: Seasons

[Epiloge – Seasons]

Tamahome sat on the roof of Nuriko's restaurant, his feet dangling over the ledge as he stared out across Tokyo. Hotohori stepped outside and sat down beside him. Things had been different for everybody in just the few days since Kaena had destroyed the book and merged the worlds, but Tamahome had experienced something the others hadn't. At least he didn't think they had.

When Kaena had touched him and channeled the power of God through his stronger body, he had experienced a moment of clarity in which he not only understood much about his death, but about why he had been given a chance. He had peered into the future at that moment and seen Kaena as a woman, with him as a lover, and he was her protector and she was his goddess and a saint. It was as if, for that brief moment in time, his existance had been validated, and all he had gone through with Miaka had been nothing more than training.

He had the distinct feeling that he was to wait for Kaena to grow and mature, and that someday, when she was the woman that he had seen her become, with too-perceptive blue eyes that saw more than any other human since Taiitsukun could see, they would be together. But at the same time, there was something disturbing about it all. Had all his suffering really been to suit some deity's whims? It bothered him.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Hotohori said, nudging him gently with his shoulder.

Tamahome shook his head. "I'm not even sure who I am anymore."

"You're Taka," he said simply. "And we're very glad to have you back. You have no idea how hard it was for us all when you were gone. Even though Miaka is our leader, you're our mascot."

Tamahome laughed. "I'm not sure if I should be flattered."

"Really, we need you. And what a privilege to channel Kaena's power like you did."

Tamahome was still mixed up about that as well. Was it a privilege or was he a vessel, being used like Tenkou had tried to use Kaena? He shook his head. "Anyway, how are you and Nuriko doing since he moved in?"

"Well, I'm finding out those habits I thought were cute when he was an occassional guest aren't so adorable anymore. But mostly I'm glad he's there," he smiled shyly. "Took me long enough."

"We don't always get it right on the first try."

"Indeed."

"We should get back inside," Tamahome moved to stand.

"I'll go. You look like you need another minute."

"Thanks," the younger man said, looking up at his emperor and friend.

"But Taka," he paused, seeming to carefully choose his words. "When I was apart from my body, I was able to see things here that I hadn't been able to see. Connections between us that I had forgotten, like what you said to Nuriko and me on the train that day, and how your actions in the book influenced my life here. It happened for a reason, and we just can't always see the reason."

"Why shouldn't somebody tell us, like Kaena is told?"

"Even those like Kaena and Chichiri don't get to know everything. They have to trust. It's all rather mysterious, but never malevolant, I don't think. The only things that are truly malevolant are other people."

Tamahome laughed again, but it had a bitter edge to it. Nonetheless, things had unfolded how they had, and it seemed the world was well. Miaka had taken her husband and her daughter home to bed and refused to let anybody talk to them until they were both so rested that they were bouncing off the walls. Things would be back to normal for them eventually. But they hadn't peered into the future like he had. They hadn't seen the decision Kaena would be forced to make, and how he had pledged to serve her regardless of her choice, and they hadn't seen the multiple possibilities, some darker than others, that he had. They should be grateful for that.

The breeze gently lifted his hair, and he looked at the new cityscape, with small Konan style shrines mixed in with high rise buildings, and rickshaws parked beside Toyotas, and wondered if this, all of this, had been planned from the start. Thinking on his vision of the future, Tamahome smiled wrly, and wondered if whatever deity was up there had meant to channel the vision of his own future to him. Tamahome thought he knew the answer, and that just made it all the more mysterious.

The End.


End file.
